


A New Midnight

by amory



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Homeless, Angst, Child Abuse, Homelessness, Homophobia, M/M, Swearing, bleeeeeh it's one giant indulgence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-14
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2017-12-11 18:47:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 114,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amory/pseuds/amory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is a homeless boy who has been running from his demons for the past five months, and doing a very good job of it if you ask him.  Louis is a uni student set on becoming a drama teacher, a skilled actor with a penchant for alcohol and evading personal questions. On one snowy afternoon they stumble into each others lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: amoryfics.tumblr.com

“How much?” A gruff voice whispers in my ear. I feel groping hands at my waist, cold fingertips ghosting my hips under my coat. Trying to hold back a yelp, I tug away.

“I-I’m not-no.” I push the man off me, twisting to get his fingers away from my skin, and start walking away.

“Hey, get back here you little whore!” The man yells, his words slurring together.

I wince at the name but keep walking as fast as I can without breaking into a run. The last thing I need right now is to appear suspicious. I make it out to a main road where cars come speeding past and lamps light the area. I take a deep breath of stagnant air, sighing. At least he didn’t follow me, or try to steal something. I’d learned my lesson soon after I fell asleep one night in an alleyway without checking the area first or keeping a firm arm around my bag. I had woken up to some old, decrepit looking woman going through my bag and running off with two energy bars.

My stomach contracts painfully at the thought of food. I can’t even remember the last time I ate something. I think it might have been three or four days ago when I found that unopened package of miniature donuts thrown out around the back of a convenience store. I should have saved it, but I couldn’t stop myself.

I’m so stupid.

I look around for another place to sleep. I’ve found my way into a more residential area, meaning there will be limited alleyways for me to curl up in. I saw the weather in a newspaper earlier say we’re supposed to be getting a snow storm tonight, which was really the reason I had found shelter so early. Now I have no idea where to go.

“You alright, mate?” I turn and see a boy staring at me. A shock of what I’m assuming is bleached hair pokes out from under his dark beanie, and his blue eyes look me over suspiciously. “Are ya drunk?”

I shake my head. “No, m’fine.”

He frowns, his eyebrows furrowing. “Are you sure? You’re stumblin’ around quite a bit. Do ya live around here? Lemme call you a cab.” I frown right back at him, waiting for all his words to process. He speaks quite fast and with a thick Irish accent. My woozy brain can hardly register it all.

“I’m not drunk,” I say, finally. “I’ll be fine, thank you.”

“How old are ya anyway? 15? Let me get you a cab, really.” When I shake my head again, he steps forward a bit. He takes in my appearance, from my unkempt and dirty curls, down to my trainers, which are ripped up and not at all appropriate for the weather. He raises an eyebrow. “Are you homeless, mate?”

I shake my head, about to give him the same excuse I give everyone who pries- _I just had a fight with my dad, I’m headed back home now_ \- but the blond boy is already talking again.

“Tell you what, I live two blocks over, I’ll give ya a room for the night.”

I take a step back and shake my head vehemently. “I’m not a prostitute.”

His laugh is so loud that it startles me and I jump. “I’m not tryin’ to pay ya for sex, mate, trust me. Just let me give you a place to stay tonight…and maybe a shower because no offense, but you kinda smell. We’re supposed to be getting a storm tonight anyway.”

“I really can’t, but thank you. Honestly.” My voice quivers and I have to practically force it out. I’m not at all used to someone being nice to me like this without having some sort of ulterior motive. He looks innocent enough, but I know very well how deceiving looks can be.

The boy sighs, before reaching deep in his pocket. “I’m Niall by the way. Don’t suppose you’ll tell me your name?” I shake my head. Niall nods and finally comes out of his pocket with a few notes. “Here’s 15, it’s all I got on me right now, but eat something tonight okay?”

My eyes grow wide and I look from his hand up to his honest blue eyes. “I-I can’t take that.”

Niall rolls his eyes. “’Course you can. Now take it or I swear I’ll find a way to force ya to sleep on my couch tonight.” He grabs my wrist and thrusts the money into my hand before I can pull back.

I look down at the money in disbelief. No one has ever given more than a few pence, maybe a pound of two if they’re feeling generous. I don’t know how I’m supposed to thank him for something like this.

“If you end up wantin’ somewhere to stay, I live with a few of my mates up the road at 165 Maple, flat 5B.”

I swallow down the lump in my throat so I can speak. “Wh-why are you doing this?”

He shrugs, as if it’s obvious. “You’re young, how old are you? 16?”

_Better than 15_ _._ “17.” I murmur. I’m used to people thinking I’m a lot younger than I am, even though I’ve been growing taller and taller everyday. My too short jeans can attest to that.

Niall nods. “You’re 17, I’m 18. I can hardly take care of myself  _with_ a roof over my head. I can’t imagine what it must be like for you.”

I feel those tears welling up now on their own accord. “Thank you. You really have no idea what this means to me. Really.” It’s been so long since anyone has been this nice to me, since someone’s looked at me with a genuine smile and not a look of pity or disgust, since anyone has even cared about me.

It feels nice.

Niall claps me on the back. “No need to thank me. Tell ya what, there’s a cafe about block or so that way, s’pretty good and open late. Go get something to eat.” I nod and watch him tighten the jacket he has on and start to walk off.

“Niall,” I call back, still holding the money in my fist. He turns around and looks at me expectantly. “I’m…my name is Harry.”

He grins and it practically takes up his whole face. It’s contagious and I find myself smiling back. “Nice to meet ya, Harry.”

I walk down to the small cafe Niall told me about and order myself a cup of tea and a sandwich. I’m still hungry afterwords, but it’s nothing compared to only a few minutes ago.I can bear it, besides, I need to save the rest of the money.

I stay until the cafe closes, nursing the tea I bought, and watching the snow fall in soft tufts outside. The barista gives me few strange looks but I don’t care. For the first time in a very long time I’m warm and fed, and that’s all that matters.

That night I find myself sleeping in yet another alley way, backpack held tight to my chest. It only takes a few minutes before I’m being slowly covered in snow. I don’t mind though, not really. It’s still better than back home by a long shot.

I look up, searching for the stars that are always hard to see in the polluted London sky. I can’t see anything other than swirling snow, but I know that they’re there somewhere. And that’s how I fall asleep.

I dream of a little boy, with wild curly hair and bright green eyes, and a sister, with hair that falls down around her shoulders and a kind smile. They run through the snow together, tossing snowballs at each other and laughing. The little boy has snow caught in his curls and the sister’s cheeks have turned ruddy, but neither care. They’re chasing now, taking turns running after one another. The sister finally catches the little boy, spinning him around in the air before holding him close to her and leaning down to whisper in his ear.

_I love you, Harry._


	2. Chapter 1

I’m woken up by the sound of my door creaking open. Hungover or not, I’m a light sleeper. Peeking an eye open I see Liam, still shirtless, placing a glass of water and paracetamol on my bedside table.

“I think I might be in love with you.” My voice is scratchy with sleep and seems to scare him a bit. He looks over, and when he sees I’m awake, rolls his eyes.

“You’re an idiot.”

Liam leaves, not sticking around to give me a lecture. He used to do that, give me a long talk every morning about how my drinking and partying needs to stop, but after a few years he realized it never works. I don’t miss the talks.

I down two pills and try desperately to remember what happened last night. The last thing I remember is snogging some boy whose name I don’t know and who isn’t currently asleep next to me, so I figure I must not have done anything  _too_  bad. I was out with Zayn and Liam, though, which could mean they ended up dragging me home. Blacking out is one of the few things I haven’t grown to love about alcohol. Yet.

Niall is still asleep in his bed when I head for the shower, but gone by the time I get back. He’s a morning person and I find it disgusting. I get dressed and fix my hair, refusing to look as hungover as I feel. If I fight the hangover maybe the pounding in my head will go away.

Zayn is at the stove pouring pancake batter into a pan and Niall has a mostly empty bowl of cereal in front of him when I enter the kitchen.

“Mornin’ Lou,” Niall says through a mouthful of fruit loops. “Do you know a Harry?”

“Gimme a minute to wake up before asking me about my sex life, wouldya?” I laugh.

Zayn laughs as well. “That guy last night was definitely not a Harry,” he says, pointing the batter covered spoon in his hand at me. “You can count him out.”

I take a seat at the table across from Niall, putting my elbows up on the table and looking at Zayn with false excitement. “So there was a guy last night? I was wondering.”

Niall cuts through our banter with a frown and a shake of his head. “No, I mean from school. He looks like he’s about 12, but he told me he’s 17. Kinda tall, curly hair, really skinny.”

I try to think past my pounding headache, going through the rosters in my head. “No, sorry Ni…why?” I smirk at him. “Have you finally decided you swing the other way? Tryin’ to go for a 6th former?”

I know full and well how to piss him off, and just as expected, Niall scowls at me. I can see Zayn trying hard not to laugh, his shoulders shaking. “I’ll have you two idiots know that I met this kid last night and he’s probably homeless, and I gave him 15 pounds.

This does not surprise me at all. Niall is the giving type, I once found him sitting on the couch frantically searching for his phone while sobbing because he just  _had_ to donate to save the puppies and  _Look at their little faces, Louis!_ It’s endearing though, as if Niall needs anything else to make him more endearing.

Liam comes walking in the kitchen, ruffling the other boy’s hair as he passes by. “Good on ya, Nialler.” He yawns. Niall bats him away but still grins at the praise. Liam makes his way over to the stove to slip his arms around Zayn’s waist. “Morning babe.” He sighs.

“Good morning, love.”

The two of them are absolutely stupid in love with each other. If I didn’t live with them and have to deal with it constantly, I’d think it’s cute. But I do live with them, so I start making fake gagging noises to interrupt their whispers. I’m rewarded with a flick of pancake batter at my face, courtesy of Zayn.

I gasp loudly and jump to my feet. “Zayn! You’re going to ruin my hair!” I run my fingers carefully through my fringe, looking for any wayward batter.

“Oh calm down, Lou, you’re such a drama queen.” Zayn chuckles.

I frown and cross my arms over my chest. “Liam, control your boyfriend before I crack an egg in his quiff.”

Liam shrugs and just rests his head on Zayn’s back, obviously too tired for my antics. “Play nice children.” Is all he says.

“Never.” Zayn sends me a wicked grin. I drop my act and smile back at him. That’s part of the reason why I love living with the boys so much, the banter. That and the fact that they care about me without being stifling. It’s nice.

“Do ya all have classes today?” Niall asks. “I’m free all day, my professors got snowed in or some bullshit like that.”

I scoff and sit back down at our small table. “One little snowflake and you’d think the world was ending.”

Niall grins. “You’re just bitter because you still have to go in today.”

I fake a gasp, pulling a hand up to my chest and everything. “Niall, are you implying that I don’t want to spend my days assistant teaching under a woman twice my age who doesn’t understand the concept of ‘homosexual’? I am appalled!”

Liam looks over at me with concern, though he doesn’t leave Zayn’s back. “Is she still hitting on you? You know, you should probably tell someone. Could be considered harassment.”

I roll my eyes. “Calm down Li, let’s not embarrass the poor woman. There’s hardly a person alive, straight or not, who could resist my arse.” I’m rewarded with laughing all around and Niall’s protests. “Besides, its only till the end of the semester and then it’s back to actual uni classes, not spending my days with 16 year olds who don’t know the difference between Shakespeare and Robert Frost.”

“I salute your bravery. Now eat your pancakes, Liam and I have class at eight.” Zayn flips two slightly burnt pancakes down on my plate and I thank him, even if they are only a little edible. None of the rest of us have any idea how a stove even works, so we kind of have to rely on Zayn’s mediocre cooking skills. I try to remind myself of that every time I go to yell at him for his hair products cluttering the bathroom.

I am out the door by seven thirty and on my way to be ogled at by a woman who is old enough to be my grandmother. My eyes and my head both ache, my sunglasses doing nothing to block the rays of light bouncing off the new fallen snow. It’s times like this when I regret the things I do, but it’s just so much easier to be drunk than it is to be me.

I walk into the mostly deserted school that reminds me a lot of my own back home in Doncaster. It’s a bit weird being in charge of kids that are just barely two years younger than me, but it’s required for my degree. I hadn’t realized that by becoming a drama teacher I’d be subjecting myself to endless hours behind a too small desk in a 6th form English class. Whatever it takes, I guess.

“Good morning Louis!” Mrs. Baker calls from her desk. She really is a very nice woman when she isn’t droning on about Tennyson or staring longingly at my ass.

I smile. “Good morning ma’am, test today right?”

She nods glasses slipping down her hooked nose. “Yes, but I’ll only be needing you to administer it before lunch. I’ve called in a substitute for the rest of the day so I can get home a bit early in the snow. You should go too.”

I smile, happy to know I can get home early and try to sleep off this hangover. “It is awful outside.” That’s a lie. The snow reaches maybe my ankles and the majority of it has already been plowed off the streets and turned into brown mush.

“Will you be needing a ride home, Louis?” Honest to god, the woman bats her eyelashes at me. Stifling laughter, I politely decline. That’s about the hundredth time she’s asked me that since I started working here in October.

I just have to make it through the first four hours and then I’ll be free to go home and bum around with Niall for the rest of the day. I tell myself that as I watch Mrs. Baker try to discreetly stare at my thighs. I suffer through the hours of reading out questions and explaining multiple times to write your last name first. I get plenty of “Good morning Mr Tomlinson”s and “How was your weekend, Mr Tomlinson?”s from the kids, though, and that reminds me why I’m here. Even if I hate this class, I do love to teach. I can hardly wait to have my own class one day, where I definitely will not give tests like this…or show up hungover.

When noon rolls around it’s snowing again. I have to spend about ten minutes assuring Mrs. Baker I can walk home before I make it outside. The snow is falling down fast and unceasing but I don’t regret not taking up the offer. Instead, I pull my beanie closer down around my ears and walk slowly back to my flat.

The four of us have been living there for about two years now, though Niall only came a year ago. Liam and I had grown up next door to one another and decided to get a flat together after only a semester in the dorms. Zayn came next. I probably should have suspected something when my English partner and my best friend volunteered to share a room n our new 2 bedroom flat, but it took me about a month to realize they were sleeping in the same bed. Finally came Niall, a big ball of energy and happiness who got on with the three of us as if he’d been there from the beginning.

I’m the first to admit it’s a little strange, but I honestly can’t imagine a life in London without my boys. They’re my family now and I love them.

I’m only a few blocks from home when I hear what I swear is crying. I slow down, tugging my headphones out and looking around. The street is mostly deserted, but there it is again. A little cry. I look around until I spot a small and shivering bundle of a person leaning up against a building.

The sobbing continues as I step closer, trying not to disturb whoever it is. “Are you alright?”

The person continues to sob and shake. He looks so little, curled up with his arms around his knees, a thin sparkling layer of snow covering his entire body. I snap into protective mode instantly. “Hey.” I reach down to shake the person softly.

He yelps, throwing his bag at me and trying to scramble back even farther. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please just take it, please don’t hurt me.”

I look down at the shabby brown backpack that’s been tossed into my hands What on earth is he talking about? “I’m not gonna hurt you. Are you alright? Here, let me help you.” I reach down for his hand. After a moment of hesitation, he takes it and lets me tug him to his feet.

The boy’s face is badly bruised, blood coming from either his nose or his split lip. He’s shaking as well, I’m not sure if it’s from fear of just the fact that he’s only wearing a light jacket, either way his hands quake when he grabs his backpack back.

“What happened to you?” I ask softly.

He just continues to shake, stepping away from me. “I-I’m okay, I can t-take care of it. It’s just r-really c-cold.” His voice is thick and eventually just turns into a long drawn out moan of pain.

Without thinking twice, I slip my coat off and wrap it securely around his shoulders He’s so skinny his collarbones stick out. That’d be something I’d usually find attractive if it wasn’t obvious that it’s from malnutrition. He reminds me of a baby bird in a way, wavering a bit on his feet as if the wind might just blow him over. I step forward quickly to catch him before he can fall to the ground.

“Try to keep standing, alright? Do you live here?” The boy shakes his head and just slumps further against me. I can tell he’s trying, and failing, to stand up straight and it breaks my heart a little. “I’m going to take you to the hospital-”

The eye that isn’t practically swollen shut flies open and he shakes his head wildly. “N-no, I can’t. I c-can’t go to the hospital. I’m fine, I’m fine, I can t-take care of it.” It’s so obvious he’s lying because he’s practically swinging around on his feet again, holding his stomach and wincing.

He doesn’t say anything other than that and I make a split decision. I can’t very well leave him here, his clothes are practically soaked through and he’s bleeding all over the place. I start walking, ignoring his quiet noises of protests, half carrying and half dragging him down the sidewalk. I find myself wishing Liam were here, he gets a lot of practice carrying me out of clubs and bars, he could probably lift the boy with those Batman muscles of his.

It takes about twice as long as it normally does to walk the rest of the way home, with the boy moaning in pain and shivering. Niall opens the door when I knock wearing nothing but boxers. I’m about to scold him for it, but he interrupts me.

“Harry?”

The boy at my side coughs a bit “N-Niall?”

“Of course.” I mutter under my breath. Of course Niall’s tall and skinny homeless kid would be _my_ tall and skinny homeless kid.

Niall moves out of the doorway so I can drag Harry in, taking him to the couch. He lays back on it and I finally look him over while Niall runs off to god knows where. He’s tall like Niall had said, with curls and green eyes and everything nice. I’d think he’s pretty fit if he weren’t currently bleeding all over our couch.

Niall comes running in with a wet flannel, having had the good sense to throw some clothes on. He throws the flannel at me desperately. “Your mom is a nurse, right, are you used to this sort of thing?” Niall asks, flustered.

I raise my eyebrows, surprised he remembered. “My mom is the nurse, not me. Besides, she works with babies, not caring for kids getting into fist fights.

“Wasn’t a fist fight.” Harry mutters sleepily.

I can’t help but to smile. “Maybe not on your end.” I put the flannel over his bleeding nose, guiding his hand until he’s holding it there. “Keep pressure on it, try not to fall asleep. Did you hit your head?”

Harry shrugs. “Don’t remember.” He slurs out.

I sigh. “Alright, you need to take your clothes off.”

“Jesus Christ Lou!” Niall hisses.

“I-I can’t. No,” Harry starts quivering, looking genuinely frightened. “I d-don’t have anything else, please don’t.”

For a moment my heart surges with sympathy, but only for a moment, before I’m back to business. “You need to change, you can’t stay in the wet clothes, you’ll only get sicker. Since you won’t go to the hospital, I’m in charge. Niall’s going to get you something to wear and we’ll wash these clothes for you, alright?”

Harry chews on his almost blue lip, tears welling up. He looks up at me, with these big green teary eyes, and my heart breaks. “P-promise?”

I’ve always been told I do well under pressure, but apparently I do too well. I try to speak softer this time, realizing I must be scaring the poor lad. “I promise. Can you sit up?” Harry nods but still ends up slumped against me again anyway.

I make sure he keeps the flannel pressed to his face while I carefully take jacket off of him as well as his own. He’s wearing only a thin t-shirt underneath which I can practically count his ribs through. He winces when I take it off and I see why. Harry’s chest is absolutely covered with bruises, old and new, as well as a long scar reaching from just over his hip bone up across his stomach.

“In m-my pocket. For Niall.” Harry mutters, still shivering from the cold.

I raise an eyebrow and reach into his pocket. I pull out some bills and change and sigh. “Shit, Curly, I’m gonna get some incredible karma for this.”

I help Harry kick his pants off just as Niall comes running in like a chicken with its head cut off. He’s holding a large sweater and boxers which he practically throws at me. “I figured he’s about as big as Zayn, right? But like, what if he gets colder, so I brought this jumper that’s too big for Liam because I figured-”

“Niall, calm down.”

The blond boy nods but he seems to be shaking just as much as Harry is, if not more. He doesn’t do well with injuries of any sort. “He looks really hurt, is he hurt?”

“M’fine,” Harry mumbles sleepily. “I should really go.”

I roll my eyes. He must be delusional. “Well for one thing, you’re about half naked, and for another you’re half dead, so no. You shouldn’t.”

Harry pulls the flannel away from his face and I nod when I see the bleeding has stopped. I pass him the clothes and help him stand up, directing him towards the hall. “First door on the left, go lay down. My bed is the closest to the door, use that one, God only knows how long it’s been since Niall’s washed his sheets,” Harry’s upper lip quirks and he lets out what could be a choked laugh. “Try not to fall asleep right away, alright? I’ll be in.”

Harry ambles off towards the bedroom and I immediately start rubbing at my forehead. What on earth have I gotten myself into? What will Liam and Zayn say? But I can’t dwell on that because my thoughts are cluttered with Harry’s crying and shaking.

“Christ,” I whisper. “Nialler, he’s just a kid.”

“I know.” He says sadlly.

“He tried to get me to give you the rest of your money back.”

Niall chews on his lip, before giving a short nod. “What can I do to help?”

I start towards the kitchen, the blond boy trailing behind me like a puppy. “Call Liam and Zayn, ask them to bring home some peroxide for the cuts and paracetamol, I’m not sure how much we have left. I’m going to make him tea and if he sleeps we have to wake him up every hour or so, just in case he has a concussion.”

“See, ya do know this!” Niall sounds relieved. I don’t mention the fact that I learned this from my mother after stumbling home drunk from a few too many bar fights.

“If he isn’t feeling better by tomorrow, I’ll drag him to the hospital by his curly little head.”

Niall agrees with me, leaving to go call Liam in the living room. There’s just enough hot water left in the kettle to make Harry a quick cup of tea which I bring to my room. Harry is perched on the very edge of the mattress, looking around awkwardly but not shaking as much as he was only a few moments ago. He’s slowly rocking side to side and I doubt it’s on his own accord.

“Are you gonna tell us what happened?”

Harry jumps when he sees me. He looks up and I suck in a breath. I can’t deny how cute he looks in the too large jumper, it hangs off his shoulder and reaches practically to his fingertips. Behind the bruises on his face and body I’m starting to get the feeling that Harry is beautiful.

“I…it’s really not anything. Just some guys is all.” He shrugs and looks down at his fingers. “M’sorry you’re doing this.”

I raise an eyebrow “Why are you sorry? You were practically bleeding and freezing to death out there, someone would have stopped eventually. Besides, I think Niall might have tried to find you anyway,” I smile slightly. “Just a warning, he gets attached very easily, he probably has it in his head that you’re best friends now.”

“Niall is very nice.” Harry might be adorable, but he is certainly not eloquent, especially not with a possible concussion

I sit down next to him, passing him the cup of tea I’ve made. “He’s the kind to bring birds with broken wings home.”

Harry thanks me for the tea and starts sipping at it slowly. I watch him look down at it longingly every time he takes a short measured sip, and feel my heart sink. “There’ll be more if you want it, Harry, you don’t have to do that.” I say.

His eyes flicker to mine and I take a moment to appreciate how deep green they are. I decide I quite like that color. “Won’t your other flatmates be mad I’m here and taking their clothes?” He asks, obviously changing the subject.

I roll my eyes. “They’re too far up each others asses to notice anything. Literally. Just be happy you’re on this side of the room, Niall can hear them fucking at night.” Harry sputters, coughing loudly through what I think is a laugh.

“I’ll be gone soon enough, anyway.” He says, finally.

I shake my head. “No, you have to stay the night at least.”

Harry looks at me, all bruises and cloudy eyes, and raises and eyebrow. “And what if I don’t want to?”

“Harry, I know you want to. Just be glad I’m not taking you to the hospital, they’d call your parents.”

He nods. “Exactly.”

I shake my head. “Listen, if this is some fight you’re having with your parents or something-”

“I can’t go home,” Harry’s voice is stern even though he’s still sleepy and slurred. “I can’t, and even if I could, I wouldn’t. I’ll be out by tomorrow.”

Deciding to leave it, I take the now empty cup from his hands. “Lay down, get some sleep. You can talk later.” The boy looks at me in disbelief, before realizing I’m completely serious. He gets under the blankets and looks awkward for a second, before I sigh and tuck the unmade blankets up around his small body. I grab Niall’s quilt as well, throwing that over him just in case.

Once I’m sure he’s comfortable and warm, I start to leave.

“I don’t know your name.” A small voice calls. I pause, my hand on the doorknob. When I turn back around I see Harry starring at me through half lidded eyes, obviously trying to keep himself awake.

“Louis.”

Harry smiles, revealing cute little dimples. He closes his eyes and burrows deeper into the blankets until all I can see is little tuft of brown curls. “You’re very pretty, Louis” His voice sounds so sleepy it reminds me of a child’s. I just nod, tempted to say the same though I know I shouldn’t.

“Goodnight, Harry.”


	3. Chapter 2

For the first time in a long time, I don’t dream of my sister. Instead I dream of fists flying towards my face, hands reaching and grabbing at my clothes and skin. The laughing faces of the men doing it are shadowed and blurred, until they merge and become just one. One all too familiar face.

My breathing escalates and once I realize I’m dreaming I start trying to wake myself up. I don’t have to try for long though, because I can feel someone jabbing at my arm. I keep my eyes closed, still stuck between asleep and awake, but I can hear voices now.

“He  _is_  pretty fit. Not as hot as Liam, though.”

“Thanks babe.”

“Quit poking at him! Christ, how old are you, four?”

The jabbing stops but it’s quickly replaced with soft hands brushing at my forehead. Warm breath hits my ear and I sigh when the hands continue to brush over my skin, eventually reaching up into my hair. “Harry? Wake up.” A sing song voice calls

“Oh god, what if he’s dead?”

I can recognize the voice this time, loud and Irish, and try to put a name to it. That’s when last night comes rushing back to me, the fight, curling up into a ball and resolving to die right there on the sidewalk, Louis finding me and carrying me home where Niall was as well. Conveniently enough that’s whole reason I was even in the neighborhood, just to give him his money back.

My eyes blink open slowly, meeting two bright and impossibly blue ones staring right back. “Pretty Louis,” I remember. “Am I dead?”

Louis laughs and pushes a curl out of my eyes. “If you’re about to suggest I’m an angel, I might hit you, concussion or not.” He grins down at me once more, before turning to the side. “See Niall, he’s alive. I told you I knew what I was doing.”

“Well I’d forgive him for being nervous, Lou, seeing as how you just spent the last twenty minutes on wikihow.” A different voice chimes in.

The blue eyed boy, who does kind of look like an angel now that I think about it, sighs exasperatedly. “Does it matter where I got the information?” He tilts his head and the lamp light casts shadows over his sharp cheekbones and tanned skin. I find myself wondering how on earth he manages to be so tan and itching to run my fingers over his face, just to be sure he’s real and I’m not dreaming.

“Well yeah it does. He coulda died or somethin’!” Niall comes into focus now, fidgeting around next to the bed. When he sees I’m looking he stands up straighter and starts babbling. “Harry! I’m so sorry, this is all my fault-”

“Did you get the money back?” I ask, thinking of how ironic it would be if I’d come all this way and didn’t even get what I needed to get done. Then again, that is my kind of luck. “I didn’t use it all so I thought I should give the rest back. It was too much in the first place.”

Niall pales, his jaw going slack. “Harry, keep the money.” He says softly.

I shake my head as best I can while one half of my face is pressed against a pillow. “No, s’okay, promise. Did I thank you?” My voice is scratchy, my head and mouth feeling like they’ve been stuffed to the brim with cotton. I should be used to this feeling by now, waking up after having the shit beat out of me, but I’m not.

“You thanked me, remember?”

I think hard but nod when it comes back to me, the night before when Niall had given me the money. Things are still kind of groggy for me but I haven’t been knocked so hard in the head that I’ve forgotten everything. I guess thats a good thing.

Louis and Niall start bickering quietly about something while I find myself sinking back into sleep. I can’t remember the last time I got a full nights sleep, or even slept in a comfortable bed. The blankets are so warm and Louis’ hands are still absentmindedly carding through my curls and before I realize what’s happened I’m being shaken awake again.

“Oh no you don’t, sit up,” Louis chides. “You need to stay up for a little bit, take a shower, your medicine, eat something. Besides, Liam and Zayn are here, remember them?”

I can feel myself blushing at that particular memory. If its anything like I think it was, I broke down and cried in front of two guys I barely know. “I’m wearing their clothes.” I blurt out.

“Yeah but don’t worry, they look better on you anyway.” I hear Louis gasp in pain and open my eyes to see him rubbing at his shoulder. “Li, babe, you have to calm down with that punch. You’re twice the size of me y’know.”

Taking a breath, I push myself up until I’m in a sitting position. I rub at my eyes, waiting for the room to come into focus. “What time is it?” I mumble.

“Almost midnight,” Niall says. “Louis kept coming in here to wake you up to make sure you weren’t dead.”

“Thanks.” I would smile at this if I wasn’t half asleep still.

Eventually my vision has cleared enough so that I can take a look around. The room is fairly big, considering we’re in the middle of London. There are two beds, the other one I’m guessing is Niall’s, and books and papers shoved up against the walls and around the floor. A guitar even sits precariously on the _Collected Plays of Arthur Miller_. It’s strange and cluttered but cozy.

“Harry, this is Liam and this is Zayn.” Louis says, pointing to each one of the boys beside him respectively. “They are disgustingly adorable, and you will probably get a cavity just watching them speak to one another.”

Liam, the one with the kind eyes that I immediately take to, smiles at me. “Never believe a word Louis says.” He says simply.

The other boy, Zayn, laughs and pulls his boyfriend closer by the waist, all while smiling proudly. I get what Louis meant; just watching the two of them stand together makes me feel like I’m intruding on something private. That’s when I realize I  _am_ intruding. It’s taken me only a few hours to break basically every rule I’ve set for myself in the 5 months.

“I should get going,” I say, startling everyone else. “Thank you so much for letting me sleep here, it really meas a lot to me.”

Louis, who hasn’t moved from the bed beside me, studies me closely. “But it’s late.” He sounds absolutely bewildered by my statement which confuses me.  _Why should he care that it’s late? He hardly knows me, he shouldn’t be worried about me._

“Yeah, it’ll be easier to find somewhere to sleep, most people move around at night.” I look down at my fingers in my lap, refusing to meet their eyes. I can still feel their eyes on me, though, which causes my neck to sweat and my face to go beet red. I’ve spent almost half a year being ignored, being invisible, having all this attention on me feels alien and wrong.

“You have somewhere to sleep.” Niall sounds like a kicked puppy and I know that if I were to look up his big baby blues would be staring right back.

“Like I said it’s uhm, it’s really nice of all of you. Really I-” I take a deep breath to try to steady myself and stop stuttering. “It’s too much. I should go.”

There’s silence and then whispering I can’t understand and shuffling movements, and finally the door clicking shut. I look up, expecting them to be gone, but instead find Louis staring at me. His eyebrows are furrowed making the blue of his eyes darker but no less striking.

“You know, I’m at uni to become a teacher,” he say conversationally. “A drama teacher.”

I nod, unsure of what I should say. “That’s uhm, that’s great.”

Louis nods. “Yeah, so I’m kind of an expert when it comes to lying, and Harry, you are a horrible actor. I hope I haven’t crushed any dreams.”

I try to stop it but I end up grinning anyway. “I hadn’t planned on it.”

“That’s good,” Louis’ upper lip quirks slightly and I know he’s trying hard not to smile back. “So, since I know you don’t really want to leave, and since I’m the oldest and so this shit kind of falls to me, I’m going to ask you what happened. So. What happened?”

“Just some guys,” I try to downplay it. “They caught me going through a dumpster and I guess thought it’d be funny to have a go at me. It really wasn’t that big of a deal.”

Louis sighs and reaches his hand across the blanket like he might touch my hand, but thinks better of it and pulls back. “Harry it  _is_ a big deal. You should go to the police, they can help you.”

This sends a jolt of fear up my spine. I look at him, eyes wide, and shake my head. “N-No I can’t. Please tell me you didn’t call them.” Louis looks confused but shakes his head. I take a deep breath and nod just to myself.

There’s silence, the only sound coming from the analog clock above Nialls bed and the murmurings from outside the door. It should feel awkward but I’m too busy trying to calm myself down to worry about that.

“Where are you from?” Louis asks and I could kiss him for not prying.

“Cheshire.”

He rolls his eyes. “Where abouts in Cheshire?” I don’t answer. “Do you have any family here, or are they all back in Cheshire?” Again, I don’t answer. I can tell Louis is getting frustrated but I can’t let anything slip through, god forbid he call the police, or worse.

“You have nowhere else to go?”

This time I nod. “You don’t need to worry about me, I’m fine. I’m really none of your concern-”

“No Harry, you are my concern now because you’re seventeen years old, you have nowhere to go, nowhere to live, and you’ve somehow found your way into my flat. You’re sitting here trying to tell me that I shouldn’t worry about you, but how can I not? You won’t let me call your parents, you won’t let me take you to the hospital, and when I suggest calling the police you practically have a heart attack. So please explain to me how I’m not supposed to be concerned.”

I wince when Louis raises his voice but he’s too worked up to notice. He runs both hands through his hair, somehow managing to make his windswept fringe look even better than before. He finally looks back at me again, and swears under his breath.

“I’ll make you a deal.”

My eyes widen in shock. I had expected him to throw me out, maybe yell at me some more, I hadn’t expected that. “What kind of a deal?” My voice quivers and I hate it.

Louis sits back up, fixing his hair as he does so. “Since you only have the clothes that you gave me, you can stay until they’re done being washed. If you still want to leave when they’re clean, you can, if you don’t want to, you can stay. Deal?”

I think it over for a moment, before I nod. “Yeah, alright.”

Louis grins. “Great! Liam is going to make something to eat, you should take a shower.” He pats my knee and starts to stand up, but stops when he seems to remember something.

“Wait, here take these.” Louis passes me a pair of sweat pants that are sitting on the end of the bed. “As much as I’d love to gawk at your body all day, the rest of them probably wouldn’t appreciate it. Spoil sports.” He winks at me, before hopping off the bed and walking out of the room.

I’m left staring after him, my eyebrows raised. I don’t understand how he can go from completely serious and practically yelling at me, to this person. It fills me with this nagging sense of nostalgia and I find myself subconsciously looking for my backpack. I spot it sitting next to the door and let out a sigh of relief. That’s all I have, everything I brought with me and hold dear. I pull the sweatpants on, which are a little too short around the ankles but I’m not complaining, and walk across the room.

There isn’t much in the bag, just a hoodie I used to wear until the right sleeve completely ripped off, a few energy bars, a ratty baby blanket, and finally my pictures. I pull the stack out, everything I had been able to grab before I left in a hurry in the middle of the night. There aren’t a lot but they still mean everything to me.

I come to the picture I’m looking for, the one of my sister at my 8th birthday party, the last birthday with my mom. My sister has one arm wrapped around my shoulder and we’re both wearing large grins while the candles on the cake in front of us light up our faces. I smile down at it, tracing my sister’s huge grin with the tip of my finger. I wish she were here, she would have listened while I told her about Louis’ eyes, she would have sat with me and made us tea while we watched crappy daytime television.

“Niall, don’t touch the stove!” A shout jolts me back to reality. I put the pictures back carefully in my bag and walk out of Louis’ room and into the hall. There are three more doors, one of which reveals a much neater bedroom with just one bed, the second of which is a bathroom.

I flick the lights on and groan when I catch sight of myself in the mirror. I look horrible and its not just the brusies, though there is a rather large one on the right side of my face. My bones seem to stick out everywhere and when I lift the sweater off I can see my hip bones jutting out as well as my ribs.

I look myself over again, tracing my scar with my index finger. Just touching it brings back bad memories of screaming, breaking glass, shouting, and bright lights. I have to catch myself on the counter of the sink, counting the seconds as I breathe in and out slowly.

“It’s over,” I whisper to myself. “It’s over, it’s over, it’s over.”

My shower is quick. I wish it could have lasted longer but I can smell food and find myself speeding up without even thinking about it. It feels good to get all the dirt off of me, to feel less like a dingy and disgusting rat and more like an actual person.

When I walk into the living room, my curls still dripping onto the collar of the jumper I’m wearing, all the chattering stops. Louis and Zayn and sitting on the couch watching television while Niall and Liam hover around in the kitchen. The blond boy sees me coming and grins like an idiot.

“Harry!” He practically shouts. “You stayed!”

“Just for a little while.” I say. Niall obviously ignores this and instead opts to run across the room and hug me. I wince when his strong arms come into contact with my bruises.

“Nialler, be careful, he’s hurt.” Liam chides.

Niall pulls back and looks me over with concern in his eyes. “Are you hurt? I’m so sorry Harry, I feel like this is my fault. We should find those assholes and kill ‘em.”

“Yeah because we’re intimidating,” Zayn speaks up, not looking away from the tv. “Lou could lead us, we could snap through the alley ways like whatsitcalled.”

“West Side Story?” A chuckling Louis offers. “When you’re a Jet, you’re a Jet all the way!” He sings the last part loudly, throwing his arms out and waving the beer in his hand around. I notice a few other bottles around the couch and wonder if he’s drunk already or if this is just normal behavior for midnight on a Monday.

Zayn laughs as well, pushing Louis by the shoulder. “Yeah, that one. We’d be proper New York gangsters.”

“I can’t even snap.” Niall says it solemnly, as if this is a tragic realization.

Liam must notice that I look lost because he motions for me to come to the kitchen. “I’m warming up this pizza since none of us can cook, do you want anything else? A beer or something?” Without waiting for an answer he reaches into the fridge and passes me a water bottle that I gladly accept.

“N-no this is fine I…thank you.” I don’t understand why he’s so nice to me, he’s only known me for a little under an hour. If I ever invited a homeless kid into my flat I probably would be more worried about him stealing something than getting enough to eat.

Liam frowns slightly, but nods. “Alright…whatever you need though, you can have. Here, take some crisps or an apple or something.”

“Wouldya stop trying to feed him, Liam? You sound like your mum.” Louis calls.

“Have you seen him, he’s wasting away!” Louis shoots back. He then looks at me, and shrugs. “No offense, Harry.”

I bark out a laugh that I cover with my hand just as quickly as it starts. I feel a blush growing around my fingertips and look around to see everyone else is laughing now as well. My eyes come to rest on Louis who smiles at me and takes a long sip of beer.

“Cute.”

That one little quip has my face practically burning by now Maybe if I’m lucky they’ll all think my face is just normally this color. Louis smirks and turns back to the television where they seem to be watching a football match.

“C’mon, you can watch with us while Daddy Liam finishes the pizza.” Niall says, leading me towards an empty spot on the couch by the crook of my arm.

Liam scoffs but goes back to the stove anyway. “I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Only I’m allowed to call him that.” Zayn says, with a devilish grin. Louis makes a choking sound and spits beer out of his mouth. The other boy is so lost in convulsive laughter he hardly notices when Louis hits him over the head with a couch cushion.

“You get used to it.” Niall mutters, though he’s grinning as well.

I end up in between Niall and the end of the couch, sitting as close to the edge as I can get without ending up on the floor. The four boys are nice but I can’t let myself become friends with them, or even acquaintances really. There are certain things friends want to know which just happen to fall under the list of things I can’t tell anyone. That’s probably why I ended up alone out here, not making any friends, or even someone who could help me survive. I’ve grown used to not having anyone, I can depend on myself and I have to because sooner or later everyone leaves, even when they promise not to.

“So Harry,” Zayn breaks the silence,well Louis has been swearing under his breath at the game, but other than that it was silent. I turn and see he’s studying me from the other end of the couch. “You’re 17 right?”

“Down boy.” Louis mutters.

Zayn rolls his eyes but waits for an answer. “I’ll be 18 in February.” I say, hoping that it makes me sound older even though it’s barely December.

“Aren’t your parents worried about you? Or do they just not care that their 17 year old is homeless in London with no food, or clothes, or a place to sleep?”

“Zayn.” Niall hisses.

I shake my head, waving Niall off. “They uhm…” I trail off, trying to decide the best way to say it. “They don’t know where I am.”

Zayn is obviously still confused. “Well aren’t they looking for you?”

I shrug, trying to force the lie through with genuine nonchalance. “Maybe, I dunno.”

Liam come into the room with the now cooked pizza and a few plates. No one pushes me further or even mentions it, except I can feel Louis’ curious eyes on me while I reach for a slice. Niall starts questioning me on my favorite foods, sports, beer, and basically anything that comes to mind. Louis soon joins in with the questioning until the cuddling Liam and Zayn shush them.

I’m on my third piece of pizza when Louis informs me that my clothes are in the dryer. The thought of leaving now is incredibly unpleasant, but I just thank him and continue to watch the television. After my clothes are dry it becomes _I’ll leave when the game is over_ , after that I decide  _I can stay for a beer or two_ , and it keeps going until it becomes  _I’ll leave in the morning_.

“I am going to leave in the morning.” I inform Louis, who hasn’t stopped grinning at me since I agreed to this. Liam and Zayn went to bed first, Liam practically carrying his sleepy boyfriend to the bedroom, and Niall followed soon after. Louis stayed up with me while I found something to eat in the fridge and he drank a few more beers.

“Sure you are.” Louis smiles at me before heading towards the hall. He drank quite a lot if the empty bottles are anything to go by, but he doesn’t seem to be that drunk at all. He soon returns with an armful of blankets and pillows which he tosses onto the end of the couch unceremoniously. “I’m going to sleep out here, you can take the bed.”

I wait for him to laugh but he doesn’t. He’s completely serious. “Louis, no, I’m not taking your bed.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Don’t be a twat, okay? You’re hurt, you’re the guest, take the bed.”

“No.” I say firmly, even crossing my arms for good measure. “Either you shutup and let me take the couch or I swear I’ll walk out right now.”

Louis and I lock eyes, he obviously trying to challenge me. When he sees he’s getting nowhere, he throws his hands up and sighs. “Good god, you’re about as fucking stubborn as Zayn,” I smile and he just shakes his head. “Fine, but don’t complain to me when Niall wakes you up at the crack of dawn.”

“Trust me I won’t.” Louis looks sadder and I cringe when I realize I’ve just made the talk serious. I wouldn’t dare complain about any of this, especially not the bed, or lack thereof, not after spending almost half a year sleeping in the same dirty clothes huddled up in the dark.

Louis helps me make a bed on the couch and leaves me when I lay down under the blankets. I close my eyes and sigh against the pillow that I realize he must have taken from his bed because it smells like him, like sandalwood and laundry soap.

“Hey Curly?”

“Yeah?”

I look over and see Louis staring at me from the hall. His eyes shine in the dark even from this far away, as though he’s been crying. He looks me over, and sighs. “I know…I know that it can be hard, with your parents and all that. I’m not trying to say that I understand your situation but…I’m actually not sure what I’m trying to say at all, to be honest. Just don’t give up, okay?”

I bite my lip, trying to decide what I should say back. There are so many things I want to say, so many things I know I shouldn’t say, so I finally decide on; “Did you?” Louis tilts his head in question. I pick at a loose string on the quilt to stop my hands from shaking. “Give up, I mean.”

Louis grins, that drunk sort of grin when you’re sad but you’re so far gone that it doesn’t matter anymore. “Yeah,” He runs a hand through his fringe that’s been partially stuck down now, and looks off out the window behind me. “Yeah, I guess I did. Sleep well Harry.”

“G’night Louis.”

I watch him go, stumbling slightly towards his room, and find myself wondering how anyone like Louis could give up on themselves.


	4. Chapter 3

The first thing that comes to mind when I wake up to the smell of bacon is that Zayn must have finally burnt his hair off with a straightener. However, when I notice there’s no screaming and even Niall is still asleep, I figure I’m probably wrong.

Niall’s stupid ticking clock that he  _insisted_  he needed, tells me it’s only 6 in the morning. I consider going back to sleep for another hour or so but the smell of bacon is too tempting. I pull back the blankets and pad out of of my room and into the kitchen where I’m jolted awake by a sight straight out of a porno.

Harry is shirtless in my kitchen.

Harry is shirtless and cooking in my kitchen.

My sense of decency is the only thing stopping my jaw from going slack at the sight. He looks so soft and inviting, curls tossed around from sleep, sweatpants hanging dangerously low on one hip, humming a song under his breath. My sweat pants. I suddenly get the overwhelming urge to come up behind him and wrap my arms around his waist like Liam does with Zayn. I want to feel his abs under my fingertips contrasted by leaving little kisses at the base of his neck where the soft baby hairs meet his skin and- _what_?

I need to get it together.

I shake my head, pushing the thoughts away. “You do realize it’s 6 am, right?” I ask, hoping a joke will have me less focused on his body.

Harry lets out a cute little yelp and whirls around to face me. His chest is heaving and it seems I’ve legitimately scared him. “Louis,” he breathes out. “You scared me!”

I bite back my smile. “Sorry. What are you doing awake?” I try not to focus on how the bruises on his face are mostly gone by now, only emphasizing how attractive he is in general.

Harry looks down at his feet bashfully shrugging. “I uhm, I just thought I’d make breakfast. I’m sorry, I should have asked before taking your food-”

“Hey, it’s alright.” I say, sounding like I’m trying to calm a frightened animal. “None of us can cook anyway. Well, Zayn tries, but it’s never any good. What are you cooking?” I walk closer to the stove and see a plate of bacon and sausage, a few cooling eggs, and potatoes. There are more eggs in the pan that he’s currently poking at as well as bread popping up in the toaster. I raise my eyebrows and let out an impressed whistle.

“Jesus Harry,” I chuckle. “Are you making us a proper fry up?”

Harry blushes, as if he could get any more adorable. “I just wanted to say thank you. My…my sister taught me how to cook when I was younger. I like it.” He says it hesitantly, as if this is too much information. Maybe it is, considering the fact that I don’t even know his last name.

I shrug and knock my hip against him which only seems to make his blush darken. “Well no complaining here. Looks good, mate.”

Harry flips an egg over and pokes at a few more pieces of bacon he’s put on. “I kinda figured you’d be hung over.” And okay, that’s adorable. Harry, who hardly knows me, is making this giant breakfast worthy of a giant hangover just for me.

I laugh and pat his curls affectionately. “Trust me, it takes a lot more than a few beers to get me drunk anymore.” Harry frowns but just shakes his head and goes back to cooking.

After pouring myself a glass of orange juice, I take a seat at the table where I can get the best angle of Harry cooking. I don’t think I’ve ever found myself this attracted to someone’s back before.

“Is he cooking?”

Liam is standing in the kitchen now with a confused look that’s probably identical to mine. I motion for him to come sit down, which he does, but only after staring at Harry in disbelief for a little while longer.

“He hasn’t burnt anything yet, it’s truly miraculous. You should wake your boyfriend up so he can come watch. Maybe he’ll learn a thing or two.” I joke.

Liam kicks me under the table and shakes his head. “Shutup, at least Zayn tries.” He defends. His fingers latch onto the sleeves of the jumper he’s wearing and I realize it belongs to the aforementioned Bradford boy. Liam grins a bit just to himself and have I mentioned they’re sickeningly cute?

“And Harry succeeds.”

I can see the blush on Harry’s cheeks from here. I’m not sure I’d mind trying to keep that blush there. “You haven’t even tried it yet, could be absolute rubbish.” He teases.

“It’d still be better than Zayn’s, trust me.” I make a face that’s met with Liam rolling his eyes and Harry grinning again. So I’d say it’s a success.

“So Harry,” Liam starts, obviously trying to change the subject. “The rest of us all have class today, even though I swear Niall never goes the bastard, but you’re going to be here by yourself for a few hours and-”

“I was going to leave after I ate, if that’s ok.” Harry interrupts. “Where are the plates?”

Liam frowns, not pleased with this. “Above the sink. Harry you really don’t have to go. You’re more than welcome to stay here.”

Harry starts piling food onto the five plates he’s spread across the counter, not looking up when he says; “I can’t stay though, we both know that. So I might as well leave now, get it over with.” He shoots the two of us a smile that isn’t returned.

Harry sits down at the table, passing Liam and I a plate and picking at his own. I let out a moan so loud that he jumps. He gives me a strange look but I just wink at him, before saying thank you and shoving as much bacon as possible into my mouth. I have to hand it to Harry, the kid can cook.

Niall wanders in next looking even more confused that he normally does, which up until now I was sure wasn’t possible. He doesn’t refuse the food though, as if he ever would, and decides this presents another opportunity for him to wrap himself around Harry like a koala.

“Are you sure you’re the straight one, Ni?” I ask. I am definitely not jealous that Harry is smiling and hugging back. Niall flips me off and plants a loud and wet kiss on Harry’s cheek for good measure.

“Just because I’m straight doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a good lad. Especially if he can cook.” Niall says, still hugging Harry sideways while the poor boy tries to eat. I let out a loud laugh at his wording and Niall tosses a piece potato at my face. “Harry, you’re straight right?”

I see Harry stiffen up out of the corner of my eye. He looks around at the three of us like we might attack him. He’s obviously uncomfortable and starts to tug on a stray curl before bringing his finger up to his lips and pulling at the skin of his knuckle with his teeth.

I shoot Niall a look, frowning. “Niall stop it.” I warn.

Niall pulls away and sits in his own chair, looking displeased with himself. “Sorry Harry. I didn’t mean to make ya…m’sorry.”

There’s awkward silence where the only sound is the scraping of forks against plates and Zayn’s alarm still going off. Finally Liam says something. It’s always Liam, he’s the sensible one, always has been. I can distinctly remember him laying out the pros and cons of me punching some kid who had the nerve to make fun of him when we were in primary school. The cons obviously outweighed the pros but Liam lost that one.

“Harry you know it’d be fine to tell us. We’re probably the last group of people on earth who would judge you for it. Have you seen how camp Lou is? He wears braces for gods sake.” Liam says it casually as if he’s just talking about the food in front of him and not the sexuality of poor, homeless, and terrified Harry.

“Shutup Liam, you wish you looked as good as I do in braces.” This gets Harry to stop tugging on his finger and smile. I point at him with my fork and say; “You should smile more often Curly, you have nice dimples.”

Harry looks back down at his food, bitting at his lip. “I am. Straight, I mean, well…kind of? I guess I’m just…bisexual?” He stumbles through the sentence like the words are hard to get out. Finally, he looks to me as if its a question and he wants my answer, so I nod for him discreetly.

Niall lets out a loop whooping noise and pats Harry hard on the back. “Finally!” he exclaims, spitting egg everywhere. “Someone to pull girls with! They’ll stop giving me that ‘but what happened to your friend Zayn’ shit whenever I try to buy them a drink.”

I laugh. “Yeah, now it’ll be ‘but what happened to your friend Harry, you know, the tall attractive one with his natural hair color’.” This sets us all off laughing except Niall who throws his hands over his head in defense.

“Shutup all of ya! It looks better this way, leave me alone!” We don’t stop laughing but he seems to resign to his fate and turn his attention back to the food.

Zayn is the last to arrive, eyes still half closed and wearing no pants. He looks around the room, taking us all in with his lazy gaze. The first words out of his mouth are, “Lou, you’re sober. Are those eggs?” and he then proceeds to ignore the last chair and take a seat on Liam’s lap.

“Zayn you’re making a horrible impression on Harry!” I say.

The boy looks up and sees Harry awkwardly trying to pass him a plate. “I don’t think he cares. Do you care, Harry?”

Harry shrugs. “No. I usually sleep naked honestly.” He sets the plate down in front of Zayn with a cheeky smile, while I practically choke to death on my toast. This kid is going to be the death of me, I already know it.

“I uhm, I was going to take a shower. If that’s okay,” Harry’s voice is back to timid and shy. “I’ll clean the dishes for you when I’m done, be out right after that, I promise.”

“No, don’t worry about it it’s fine Harry. Go.” I say a little too quickly, really wanting Harry and his fantastic body away from where I’m inhaling and killing myself eating breakfast. He nods and takes his empty plate to the sink and leaves, but not before shooting the four of us a look as if we might take it back.

I find myself watching him go until he disappears into the hallway and all that’s left is silence. And then Liam starts.

“Louis, no.”

“Shutup Liam.”

“Louis,  _no_.” Liam reaches over and grasps my hand until I look at him. “You know how you get.” Of course Liam knows how I get, he’s been my best friend since we were 6, he knows almost everything about me. But just because Harry is extremely attractive and has an adorable smile doesn’t mean I’m going to do anything about it. Probably.

I roll my eyes and snatch my hand away. “Don’t worry about it, I don’t even like him.”

The three of them all look at me all in unison, all with eyebrows raised, all looking disapproving. It’s almost scary. “You were starin’ at him like he was a meal.” Niall points out.

“Well he made the meal, I was just appreciating it.”

“He’s fit.” Zayn’s says next.

I roll my eyes. “Just because a hot guy happens to find his way, shirtless, into our kitchen does not mean my first reaction is to want to fuck him. Christ.” I push my chair away angrily and start washing the dishes just to keep myself busy. I never wash the dishes and I remember why as soon as my fingers brush wet food. I feel like I might puke all over my friend’s stupid knowing faces.

Liam is the one to set me off but then again, he usually is. He’s always right and that pisses me off. “Lou, just be careful alright? You fall very hard very fast, you know that. I just don’t want you to get hurt again.”

A spoon goes clattering into the sink and I brace myself on the counter. “Would you all just  _shut up_?” I growl. “I’m 19 years old, I can take care of myself. I don’t need you idiots on my back telling me to stay away from a kid! A homeless kid! Like I would ever fucking stoop that low just for a quick fuck.”

“Louis.” Niall hisses.

Of course none of that is true. I don’t think Harry would be a quick fuck, I don’t think he would be stooping low, I barely know him and I know for a fact that it would be anything but low. But Harry doesn’t know it’s not true, and Harry is apparently standing in the doorway looking for a towel.

“I…shit. Harry-”

Harry grins, he fucking grins, dimples and everything. “It’s alright. I’m gonna go, yeah? Thank you for everything, honestly. I’ll see you around.” And that’s it. He slips the t-shirt in his hands on over his head and leaves, stopping only to grab for the backpack he’s left near the couch. He leaves like it’s nothing, like it’s not below freezing outside, like he won’t be sleeping in an alley tonight, like I haven’t basically just called him a piece of shit in front of everyone.

Time seems to pause for a moment before I come to my senses. “Harry!” I run out of the kitchen and towards the door but he’s gone. The only trace of him is our next door neighbor, some old lady, yelling at me as I go back inside.

“I see you chasing these boys out of your flat every morning! I have half a mind to call-”

“Oh, fuck off!”

Zayn grabs me by my forearm and jerks me inside. He quickly apologizes to the poor old lady, and then practically throws me onto the couch. When I try to get back up, he points at me menacingly. “Hey! Just because you’re pissed off doesn’t mean you get to harass the neighbors, alright? Sit down!” His voice booms throughout the flat and leaves deafening silence behind it. He closes his eyes for a moment and pulls a hand through his hair. “Louis, I love you, you know I do…but you just-“

“It’s fine.” I stand up and Zayn doesn’t stop me this time. “I need to go to work anyway. It’s fine, we barely knew him anyway. Sorry for shouting.”

Zayn frowns and turns to the other boys who are watching from the kitchen. “I-“

“I’ll see you after class, yeah?” And with that I go back to my room and get dressed and ready as fast as humanly possible, pulling a beanie on in lieu of actually doing my hair. I doubt that’s actually allowed in school but I don’t think Mrs. Baker will say anything about it. I make sure to turn the music on my ipod up as loud as possible so that when I slip out of the flat I can’t hear anyone calling me back.

During the walk to the school I find myself looking around for Harry. I don’t understand how he’s managed to make such an impression on me, I’m not the type of person to make friends so easily. Maybe it’s that smile, that has to be it. Those fucking dimples. Either way, I end up practically attacking every guy I see with curls because I’ve completely lost it by now.

 

…

 

“Louis, are you feeling alright?” Mrs. Baker finally speaks up after staring at me curiously all day. I’m sat at the small desk I’ve claimed as my own, helping her grade the tests from the day before. All the students have already gone home and normally I would as well, but I can’t face them all. Not yet.

I give her my best fake smile, wondering how on earth she’s noticed this and not the fact that I come in hungover almost everyday. “I’m fine, probably just a stomach bug.” I lie. Her eyes grow wide at this and she starts to insist I go home at once to rest. I just smile, shake my head, and go back to the tests.

“Louis, why don’t you take tomorrow off?” The teacher finally offers. She’s ogling me, but then again she always is, but she seems sincere. Something clicks in my brain and I start a hacking cough.

“You know what?” I croak out, taking it over the top. “If that’s alright, I think I actually might?”

Mrs. Baker waves her hands around as if warding off my sickness. “Of course dear!” She says. “Will you be needing a ride home? You really shouldn’t walk in weather like this when you’re sick.”

I shake my head and smile. “No, my flatmate is coming round to pick me up.” Which is a total lie because none of us have cars, I live within walking distance, and I’m not going home until very late tonight.

I finish up the last of the tests halfheartedly, probably giving out more A’s than are deserved, excitement already pumping through my veins at the thought of tonight. It’s hardly 5 o’clock in the afternoon when I find myself in a pub ordering round after round of pints.

I don’t know when the drinking started. Well, that’s not true exactly. I can’t remember the exact day that I decided I needed to drink to numb myself, but I wish I did so I could celebrate it in my morbid way. I do remember all the days leading up to it. I remember coming home late at night to my sisters crying, I remember fighting with my mother, I remember Liam who was always there even when I told him I hated him. Of course he never left, though, and he never said anything to the other boys about it which I’m eternally grateful for. But not even Liam knows the whole story.

“I’m such a piece of shit.” I say out loud. Because I am really. I said all that about Harry and now he’s god knows where, probably freezing to death, I treat all my friends like shit even when they’re only trying to help. I haven’t even tried to fix my problems with my mother or my sisters. My sisters. They have to be so much older now, Lottie’s practically a teenager.

“I am a piece of shit.”

For some reason I start laughing, blowing bubbles into the beer with my lips. The bartender is saying something that I can’t understand because I’m too busy laughing at nothing. Suddenly there are large burly hands on my shoulders, showing me to the door and out onto the street where it’s dark now.

“Beer was shit anyway!” I slur out, raising a fist in the air like an angry old man, which sets me off laughing again. I start walking, almost entirely sure there’s a club in this general area. I start to wonder if they’ll let me in like this, but it’s a Tuesday night so I figure I might as well try.

I must black out because the next thing I know I’m in the club, which is surprisingly busy for a Tuesday, drink in hand, dancing with some boy. He surges towards me as the music picks up, rolling his hips against mine and biting down softly on my earlobe.

“What’s your name?”

And I laugh because Harry asked me that exact same question. I pull back and shake my head at him.

“Not important.”

With that I down the rest of my drink, set it on the nearest flat surface, and dance with him. It isn’t so much dancing as it is just trying to get off on one another with our pants still on. But that’s what clubs are for…at least that’s what I’ve always used them for. Haven’t I? I can’t remember really, I’ve had so many drunks.

“Come back to mine?” The man growls in my ear. It isn’t a question. His lips trace a path from my ear down to my neck where he latches on and leaves what will probably turn out to be a massive bruise, but I don’t care right now. The only things that matter right now are his lips and his arms and hands and thighs.

“Yeah, alright.” I hardly know what I’m saying anymore.

The man links our hands and starts dragging us off the dance floor and out of the club. My mind clears for a moment and I realize what’s happening, but I don’t care. In all honesty, I probably deserve a one night stand that will end in an awkward  _I’m going to need you to leave soon_ , and a fake number along with money for a cab. I deserve that feeling of my heart sinking deep into my stomach and tears that I refuse to let slip out.

The cold air hits me like a brick wall and sends me careening back into the man’s chest. He wraps arms around my hips and starts kissing my neck again, obviously not concerned with the fact that I can hardly stand up straight.

“I’m going to absolutely  _ruin_  you.” He whispers into my neck

“Too late.” I whisper back. He doesn’t hear though, he’s too busy grabbing at my ass and pushing us forward onto the street.

“Louis?”

The sound of my name being called has me spinning around in the cold night air, looking for its source. Suddenly there he is, my guardian angel in a pair of too short jeans and raggedy jumper. He has snow in his curls and I want so badly to run over and tousle them out, kiss his ruddy cheeks, and hug him.

“Harry you’re an asshole!” I shout and I don’t know why. Maybe I thought it would make me feel better but it doesn’t, so I follow that up with; “No you’re not, you’re not an asshole. You’re an angel.”

Harry rearranges his backpack and walks up to us, eying the guy behind me who is trying to tug me away. “Who’s this?”

I think for a moment before shrugging. “Dunno.”

Harry frowns at this. “Where are the boys? Did they come with you?” I shake my head and he seems to think a moment before reaching for me. “Come on I’m taking you home.”

“What?” The man suddenly stirs and pulls his mouth away from my neck. He fixes his cold eyes on Harry and tightens his arms around me. “No way, go get your own, kid.”

Harry rolls his eyes and pulls me away easily. The man stumbles back drunkenly and starts yelling at us, but Harry ignores him and starts walking. I watch him for a bit, with his furrowed eyebrows and set jaw, and find myself wondering if he’s angry with me. He should be angry with me.

“Jesus, Louis what did you drink?” He asks, finally. He doesn’t sound curious though, just exhausted.

“Everything.” I chuckle. Harry doesn’t seem to find it as funny as I do and stays silent. He wraps an arm around my waist and directs me down the sidewalk, steering me away from street lamps and cars. His arm feels nice there, it’s a comfortable weight and warmth that I could definitely get used to.

“I could definitely get used to that.” I tell him.

Harry rolls his eyes at me. “You smell like a liquor store.”

“Does that turn you on?” I try to wiggle my hips suggestively, but end up just tripping over my own feet and pitching forward. I probably would have hit the ground too, were it not for Harry’s quick reflexes.

“My hero.” I say under my breath.

From then on the walk is silent, until we reach the flat. It has to be well past midnight but the light is shining from under the door meaning everyone is awake.

“Don’t make me go in there.” I groan. It’s been awhile since I’ve disappeared like this, but they never take it well.

Harry ignores that. “Do you have your keys?” I pat around my pockets but find nothing. He sighs, rolls his shoulders, and knocks on the door.

Liam answers almost immediately and even through my drunken haze, I feel terrible. He looks panicked, what little hair he does have sticking up at odd angles from pulling on it, and his eyes are red like he’s been crying. He spots Harry first and opens his mouth to say something, but then he notices me and that’s it.

“Louis!” Liam grabs me in a tight hug, lifting me up until I’m standing on tip-toe. He pulls back a bit to give me a stern look which is completely ruined by the fact that he’s still tearing up. “Louis, fuck, I was so worried about you! You can’t do that me! Goddammit, oh my god.”

“Hey Li.” Is all I can say. Liam lets out a sound between a sob and a groan and buries his head into the crook of my neck. He squeezes me tightly, as if he can keep me from leaving again by hugging me like this.

Liam finally pulls away to lead me inside, motioning for Harry to follow as well. He does, even though he looks reluctant about it. “Harry do you think you could help him to bed? I need to call Zayn and Niall, they’re out looking.”

Harry nods. “Of course.” I follow him to my room, grumbling about how I don’t need help, which is shot to hell when I try to take my shoes off and end up almost impaling myself on my collection of Shakespeare’s works.

“Fucking Shakespeare.”

Harry ignores me and helps me take off my shoes and pants, before passing me the nearest pair of flannel pajama pants he can find. I lay down flat on my face, willing myself to completely disappear and never come back. I made Liam worry. I made Liam, Zayn, and Niall worry about me, they’ve been looking for me all night, and I am just a very bad person.

“Where did you find him?” I hear Liam ask.

“Outside of a club. Some guy was with him, they were stumbling around trying to leave I guess,” Harry mumbles back. He pauses before adding; “Does he do this a lot?”

Liam sighs loudly and I feel his soft fingertips brushing at my hair. “He drinks a lot, yeah. We never let him go out by himself though, he gets into trouble when he’s drunk. It’s just…he completely disappeared this morning after you left, he wouldn’t answer his phone, and he tends to drink like this when he feels down. He really didn’t mean any of what he said Harry, we were just teasing.”

Harry lets out a long sigh. “I know I just…can I help? What do you need me to do?”

Neither of them speak for a moment and I think I might have passed out again. “Could you, god this sounds awful,” Liam starts. “Just stay with him for a little while to make sure he doesn’t puke and choke to death, or pass out, make sure he’s breathing? I need to calm Zayn and Niall down a bit, but he should be sleeping by then.”

I can feel the bed sink next to me and figure it must be Harry. I want to sit up, tell him I’m sorry for what I said, apologize to Liam for everything I’ve ever done to him over the years, and maybe get a glass of water. I mean to, really, but I can feel exhaustion taking me.

A voice breaks through my sleepy haze. Harry’s voice. “You’re so lucky, Louis.”

I manage to turn my head a bit and peek out of one of my eyes up at him. He’s leaning up against my headboard, looking out at the city from my window. He probably thinks I’m still sleeping, probably doesn’t notice I’m watching him now.

“You have all these people that love you and care about you. You are so lucky.” He says firmly. I want to sit up and argue, to tell him he probably has people caring about him and loving him as well, that I might even care about him a little bit, but those thoughts are lost when I drift back to sleep. 


	5. Chapter 4

There’s a comfortable weight on my chest when I wake up, making me only that much more reluctant to do so. Along with the weight come soft fingers holding my own. I half expect to find myself dreaming, but instead I open my eyes and see Louis. He’s still asleep, his head resting over my heart, one arm wrapped around my waist, and the other thrown haphazardly over my chest, fingers still tickling at my palm.

Louis’ a drunk cuddler and I don’t think I mind at all.

He probably wouldn’t be too pleased to wake up holding my hand, though, so I untangle our fingers as best I can without waking him. Louis lets out a short sigh, breath stirring the feathery hair around his face. I’m probably a creep but he’s sleeping so he won’t notice if I stare at him and wonder how on earth he’s even real…right?

Louis twists around a bit in his sleep and I catch sight of the love bite on his neck. It doesn’t even look like it was pleasurable, it just looks like a giant bruise. I swear there’s even teeth marks. I try to quell the jealously rising in my chest at the memory of last night. Louis looked so small in comparison to that scumbag that was carting him around like a prize he’d won.

“Harry?” I look up from Louis and see the door creaking open. Liam pokes his head in and looks around, biting his lip when he sees me. “Hey mate.”

“Hey.”

Liam pulls the door the rest of the way open and steps inside. “How is he?” He asks, as if he doesn’t know. He’d been in and out of the room all night, and when he finally fell asleep it was Niall or Zayn coming to check. Niall, who seems to disappeared by now. The Irish-man’s ticking clock tells me it’s only 7 in the morning.

I wipe at my eyes to get read of the bleariness, and shrug, all while trying to keep Louis balanced on my body. “He’s fine, I think. Probably going to wake up to a massive hangover.”

Liam nods. “He isn’t going into work today…so if you-”

“You want me to stay with him?” I finish.

He cringes a bit, obviously uncomfortable with asking so much of me. “I feel like his mother, honestly, asking you to babysit him but…could you? The res of us all have class but if you need anything or help you can call us, Louis’ phone is on the counter.”

I let my hand drift down to Louis’ hair which is even softer than I thought it would be. I really should say no, I really should go and not let myself become anymore attached than I already am. But Liam is giving me these puppy dog eyes and I can’t say no, the fact that I don’t want to say no is beside the point.

“Yeah, I can do that.”

Liam lets out a long sigh, obviously relieved. “Honestly Harry, I don’t know how to thank you for all of this.”

I smile. “Well I’ve had a place to sleep for the past two nights so I’d say that’s thanks enough.”

He shakes his head. “Stay as long as you need to.”

It’s tempting. The other boys are incredible, funny and nice to me even though I showed up half dead and smelling like a dumpster, and then there’s Louis who is making me feel things that are actually quite terrifying. But I know they’ll want something in return eventually, something more than just this. Everyone wants something in return.

“Zayn and I will be back around 5. Just try to keep him in the flat until then, I had Niall hide the alcohol so we only really need to worry about him getting out to a pub or-”

“It’ll be fine.” I assure him. Liam nods, gives Louis’ sleeping figure one last sad look, and finally leaves the room.

Louis stays asleep for another hour or so. I wrap an arm around his little shoulders and watch the big hand on the Niall’s clock move. I try not to let my mind linger on how Louis fits right in my arms, how he’s just small enough to tuck under my chin if I wanted to.  _This is just temporary_ , I remind myself.  _Don’t get attached._

“What’s your scar from?”

I jolt upwards, my arm tightening around Louis until I realize it’s him who’s speaking. He’s awake now, looking up at me with his fingers playing with my t-shirt. His eyes are so blue, bluer than I’ve ever seen, I get lost in them for a moment.

“Harry?” Louis’ morning voice is slightly deeper than normal, much more raspy. I decide that like it

“Hmm?”

“Your scar, what’s it from?” He taps my stomach right over the long scar stretching across it. I cringe and sit up until Louis rolls off me. That is definitely not a conversation I’ll be having with Louis, or anyone else for that matter.

“I’ll get you something for your head.”

When I come back in the room Louis has curled up into a ball on the middle of the bed, holding his head between his hands. He groans when he notices me coming and I feel my upper lip quirk without permission. “Paying good money for that drama degree, I hope.” Louis sticks his tongue out at me like a child but takes the medicine and glass of water with a smile. He downs the pill easily and cuddles back into the sheets, looking about five times smaller than he actually is.

“So much for leaving, huh?” Louis winks up at me through his arms.

I shake my head. “M’still going. I just promised Liam I’d stay with you.”

Louis makes a face. “Daddy Liam on a rampage then. Is he gone?” I nod. He grabs his blanket, pulling it off the bed and around himself. “Good, then let’s move this pity party to the couch. I’m going to change though so if you want to stay-” Louis cuts off into laughter when I turn an leave the room.

My first instinct is to head for the kitchen. I always cooked for my sister when she felt poorly. I find a few eggs along with the left overs from the day before and decide to make omlettes.

I’m in the middle of drowning my eggs in cheese when I hear the shushing noise of feet against the hardwood. “Can we keep you?” I turn and see Louis in just a jumper and boxers with the quilt draped around his shoulders. He leans against the doorway and smiles at me making my stomach twist.

“Trust me, you don’t want to.” I blurt out, like a complete idiot.

“I beg to differ.” Louis laughs, and I try not to think of the implications of that sentence. He’s silent for a while but I can feel his eyes on my back as I cook. I’m sliding my omelette onto a plate and starting his when he speaks up. “What’s your favorite movie?”

I shrug. “Dunno. I never really watched a lot of movies.”

Louis gasps exaggeratedly. “What kind of person doesn’t have a favorite movie?” He asks, sounding absolutely appalled at the thought. I turn and shrug. “This won’t do. Have you ever seen Aladdin.” I shake my head. Louis stares at me for a moment in complete disbelief, before rubbing at his temples with his hand. “Come on Curly, today’s going to change your life.”

When I finish the omelettes I join Louis in the living room. He’s cuddled up in his quilt on the couch, pulling it tight around his shoulders like he’s freezing.

“This was my sister Lottie’s favorite movie when we were younger.” He comments.

I pass him the omelette and sit down at the other end of the couch. “You have sisters?”

Something passes over his face that I can’t quite decipher, but it’s quickly replaced by a fond smile. “Yeah, four of them. All younger.” I go to comment on it but Louis quickly hushes me and the movie starts.

Leave it to Louis to find a cartoon musical about a homeless boy. He sings throughout the entire thing, going so far as to use his quilt as a “magic carpet” and attempt to act out a scene with me as a reluctant princess. He has a beautiful voice I notice, and I kind of wish he’d continue to serenade me, even if he does look ridiculous.

“What would you wish for?” He pipes up towards the end of the movie.

I shrug, not really thinking about it. “More wishes.”

Louis wrinkles his nose in disgust. “Oh, come on now Harold! Be original!”

“It’s actually just Harry.”

“Formalities,” Louis waves his hand and I have to stifle a laugh. “Now give me your three.”

I think for a moment, before saying; “Lifetime supply of chocolate chip cookies and a flat with a fireplace. I’ve always wanted a fireplace.” I instantly regret saying it, realizing I sound like a child. _Who wishes for chocolate chips cookies and a fireplace, Harry, honestly? Idiot._

Louis doesn’t comment on it, just smiles. “You have three.”

I shrug and eat the last piece of my massive omelette. “I’m saving the last one, you never know.”

Louis’ quiet then, and I figure he’s watching the movie until I turn and see him staring at me. The cartoons on the tv are reflecting in his eyes, making them seem even bluer than normal, more striking. He leans down, putting his cheek in his hand and studying me for a little while longer.

“What’s it like?” He asks, finally. “Being homeless, I mean. If you don’t mind me asking.”

I look down at my fingers in my lap, unable to look in his eyes any longer. No one’s ever asked me that before, granted I’ve only talked to a handful of people in the past few months, but still. I don’t know how to explain it, I don’t know what to tell him.

“I don’t know.” I mutter. “Cold, I guess. Not just physically, but mentally. Everyone ignores you, they walk right past you like you aren’t even alive, or they give you looks like  _this is your fault_. The worst part of it all is that I know it’s my fault, but I wish I could just go a day without disgusting someone.”

“Harry, you aren’t disgusting anyone.” Louis sneaks his hand out of the quilt and squeezes my knee to reassure me.

I smile, trying to hold back my tears. “You don’t know me.” If he did he wouldn’t want to be near me because he’d know. He’d know everything I had done, how I even ended up homeless in the first place, about my scar. Louis would be disgusted with me too just like everyone else is, it’s only a matter of time.

“What would you wish for?” I ask him.

Louis shakes his head and turns back to the tv. “I’ll tell you once I know you better.”

We spend the next few hours watching movies that Louis’ picks out, hurriedly explaining the plots before aptly watching as if he’s never seen them before. He even shows me the extent of his cooking skills, making us pot noodles sometime around noon. My favorite out of all the movies is Finding Nemo, and I end up holding back tears while I watch like a complete child. Louis must notice too because the quilt is wrapped around my shoulders as well, tenting between us.

“It has a happy ending, Hazza, I promise.” Louis smiles.

There’s a sharp pang in my stomach at the nickname. “M-my sister used to call me Hazza.” I whisper.

Louis’ smile only widens at this. “It suits you. Coffee or tea?”

“Tea.” I mutter.

Louis pats me on the back. “Good lad.” He leaves the quilt with me and disappears into the kitchen. On the screen Dory and Marlin are riding turtles. I decide I want to go to Australia to see if the turtles really are that old, maybe even get a clownfish. That’s what I want, a flat with a fire place, a clownfish, and pictures of my family all around. My sister would have laughed at the idea, but she would have liked it nonetheless.

“I think I would like to know you, Harry.” Louis comments causally when he reenters the room. “I mean, I know you don’t want me to for whatever reason, but you’re very interesting. Your eyes are a lot older than you are.”

I frown and take the tea from his hands. “What does that even mean?”

Louis sits back down under the quilt, closer to me this time. “Your eyes tell a story, Harry, and it’s a very interesting one. I want to know it.”

I sip at the tea he’s made me, which is excellent because apparently if you can’t cook you have to at least make a decent cup of tea, and think over his words. “I’m far from interesting, I promise. But…”

Louis raises an eyebrow. “But?”

“You are. What were you doing last night?” I didn’t mean to say it because actually I didn’t mean to say anything. I wasn’t going to mention anything about last night because it isn’t for me to mention. I don’t know Louis, I’m not a friend to him like Liam, Zayn, and Niall are.

Louis sighs. “I got today off my internship and decided I should celebrate,” He says, easily. “Which reminds me, thank you for getting me away from that guy. By the state of my neck I’d say any longer with him and I probably would have had to take off the rest of the week. Wouldn’t want to set a bad example for the kiddies.” He winks at the last part, like this is all some big joke to him.

I want to ask him if it is a big joke to him. Liam, Zayn, and Niall were all absolutely distraught last night, Zayn had come home yelling and demanding to see him. Louis had done that to them just by “celebrating” as he calls it, and now he’s pretending like it wasn’t a big deal. I want to shake him until he realizes how rare it is to have people like that in your life, how rare it is to find three people who love you unconditionally and would run around in snowy London late at night to try to find you.

But I don’t ask. I just go back to watching the movie.

Zayn and Liam walk in in the middle of Love, Actually. Zayn’s eyes instantly narrow when he sees Louis and the older boy starts scrambling back on the couch, babbling. “Oh, hi Zayn. Have I ever mentioned how fantastic you look-”

“Shutup.” Zayn growls. Liam puts his hands on Zayn’s shoulders, not holding him back but just comforting. “Do you have any idea what you did last night?”

Louis bites at his lip a bit. The sarcastic joking boy from only moments ago is gone. “I…I could guess.”

Zayn’s frown only deepens and I find my breathing escalating. I don’t do well with yelling, or any kind of confrontation really, even when it isn’t aimed at me. I kind of want to curl up into the blankets and hide until it’s over.

“This isn’t time for joking, Louis. Niall and I spent all of last night looking for you while my boyfriend, the man who is practically your brother, was inconsolable because he thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere! And then you show up, completely shit-faced, and not caring. Do you think I like that? Do you think I like seeing Liam cry, seeing Niall cry, watching you so drunk you’re almost dead?”

“Zayn,” Liam whispers in a soothing voice. He’s moving his hands until they’re wrapped around the other boy’s waist, and I notice that Zayn is on the verge of tears. “It’s alright, love, it’s-”

“It isn’t alright Liam!” Zayn’s voice cracks and he runs a hand through his hair roughly.

Louis looks lost for words. “I-I didn’t mean for you to be worried-”

“You knew we’d worry Louis, you knew we would!” Zayn shoots back. “We called you repeatedly, we went to every single bar and club you’ve ever set foot in looking for you! This is past drinking Louis, you have a problem.”

Louis’ eyes widen in fear. “Zayn, stop it. I’m fine, there isn’t a problem.” His voice shakes and I notice his hands are too, but he has them fisted in the blanket tightly.

“There is so a fucking problem!” His voice booms, echoing through the flat and sending shivers down my spine.

Liam pulls Zayn into his arms, kissing his boyfriend on the forehead. “It’s alright, Z, it’s okay. Come on, you need to go calm down for a bit, yeah? Come on.” Louis and I both watch as Liam coaxes Zayn out of the living room and into their bedroom.

The flat is strangely quiet until Louis coughs to break the awkward silence. “He’s uhm, he can be-”

“Dramatic?” I finish.

Louis smiles at me. “Yeah, dramatic.”

Niall comes stumbling into the flat not too long after Zayn’s explosion. He has his hands full with boxes of pizza and wings but practically drops them all when he sees Louis sitting on the couch. He quickly puts the food on the table and practically tackles Louis, holding the older boy tightly and squeezing.

“Calm down, Nialler, I’m fine.” Louis reassures him, but he doesn’t move to push Niall off.

Niall pulls back, finally, and punches Louis on the arm. “You can’t do that Lou!” He croaks out, his voice thick with tears. He leans his blond head against Louis’ chest and hugs him again, squeezing until Louis squirms around uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry, Niall, really I am.” Louis mutters.

Niall wipes at his nose and then spots me. He grins though his eyes are still slightly teary. “Harry!” He smiles. “You’re still here!” I nod and he pulls me into a quick hug, before propelling himself off the sofa and towards the kitchen.

“Where are Liam and Zayn, I’m going to eat all this pizza by myself!” He shouts. Louis rolls his eyes, but laughs, and motions for me to follow.

The three of us start eating, Niall babbling on about his day. Apparently he spent his whole day in lectures about business. I find myself entranced with the idea of university. I had wanted to go so badly back when I was younger, back before I found out that we don’t always get what we want most. I had wanted to be a million different things, a lawyer, a singer, an English teacher, and now here I am. I should be doing those things, and instead I’m doing this. Nothing.

Liam and Zayn join us soon afterward, Zayn murmuring a soft apology to Louis who just nods and smiles. I’m halfway through my fifth wing when Zayn finally speaks up again.

“Harry, how much would you love me if I found you a job?”

I almost drop my food, staring at him in disbelief. “Are you…are you serious?”

Zayn shrugs. “It’s not a lot, just answering phones. I work at the radio station at school-”

“He’s a radio dj.” Liam says, smiling proudly.

Zayn rolls his eyes but reaches for Liam’s hand anyway. “It’s just the station for the university, hardly anyone listens to us. But still, it pays well enough. He woman who works there now is leaving and it was kind of up to my mate to hire someone, but he never gets anything done without me. So what do you say?”

“You could stay here!” Niall pipes up, pizza sauce covering his face. “Oh my god, it’d be so great!”

Louis laughs and pats me on the back. “If you don’t take it I think Niall might actually cry. We don’t want that do we?” There’s a sparkle in his eye that tells me he wouldn’t be too opposed to me staying, either.

I bite at my lip a bit, turning back to Zayn. “I-I only ever worked at a bakery before I left home.” I warn him.

Zayn rolls his eyes. “Just as long as you can work a phone and deal with me all day, you should be fine,” he smiles at me, waiting for the answer. “Please tell me you’ll take it, I’d rather be stuck with you all day than some girl my friend hires just to laugh at.”

I think it over. With a job I’d be able to save my money, maybe even get my own tiny flat somewhere. I could buy clothes, food, whatever I needed. I could be independent. So I nod. “Yeah. Thank you so much, Zayn, I really mean it.” I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay these boys for all they’ve one for me

“Not a problem, mate. You’ll start Monday.” He says, like it’s nothing. But it isn’t nothing and I can tell by the look that Louis gives me when I turn back to my food that it isn’t nothing. It’s everything to me, more than I could have ever dreamt of.

I don’t even protest when Louis helps me make my bed on the couch that night, I just smile and thank him, before falling asleep thinking of my sister. I’d like to believe she’d be proud of me.

 


	6. Chapter 5

Harry slips right into our life over the next few days like he’s always been there. He cooks breakfast every morning, he lets Niall crawl all over him while they watch telly, he listens to Liam drone on and on about Zayn’s eyelashes when he has too many glasses of wine with dinner, he even lets Zayn experiment on his curls with random hair products. In just a few short days Harry becomes a welcome bit of happiness in our lives.

And I like him as well of course, probably a lot more than I should like him but still. It’s just that I find myself picking out the littlest things about him to like. I like the way he laughs when he shows off the dimples in his cheeks, I like the way he doesn’t complain when I wake him up in the morning by jumping on his ridiculously long legs, I like how he looks in those giant sweaters he borrows, I like how he sits around and watches movies with me, I like how he sometimes drifts off into this inexplicable broodiness and speaks slow with his eyebrows drawn in. I like Harry.

I haven’t had a drink since Tuesday night. It’s Monday morning. To say I’m feeling antsy is an understatement, but I think Harry’s even worse off.

He’s sitting at the kitchen table playing with a stray string on his shirt, his fingers shaking as he does so. “Harry,” I chuckle, and he looks up immediately, dropping his hands. “You’ll be fine…want me to skip today and come with you for a few hours?”

Harry’s eyes meet mine, all wide eyed and disbelieving. “Really? Won’t you get in trouble?”

I roll my eyes. “Like that woman would ever think to yell at me. She loves me, and my perfect arse.” Harry chuckles at this, his dimples showing, and I smile back. Mission accomplished, Tomlinson. 

Despite my reassurances, Harry’s still too jittery for me to even think about letting him near a stove. Instead I pour him a bowl of cereal and make up some excuse to Mrs. Baker about an advisor meeting. Harry watches me do so with a cheeky grin on his face, obviously amused by how she flirts with me even over the phone.

The five of us all leave at once, taking the tube from our flat to the university. Without even thinking about it I find myself sticking close to Harry, going so far as to tuck him in close to my side while we wait for the train to arrive. That’s when I notice him looking around the station wearily.

“What’s wrong, Haz?”

Harry shuffles a little closer to me before finally whispering; “I used to sleep here sometimes.” I make sure to keep my arm wrapped around his waist even tighter after that.

Niall goes running off to class first, late as usual, but his professors all think he’s an angel so they never mind. Liam’s next, saying a very lengthy goodbye outside of Liam’s lecture hall that lasts until I start catcalling.

Zayn leads the two of us across campus to the radio station. “So basically all you gotta do is answer phones, direct them to us, take a note, or hang up on prank calls. Hardly anyone ever calls though, so really you’re just putting up with me and the others.”

Harry bites at his lip but nods, trailing behind Zayn and sticking close to me. I nudge him slightly, want his smile back. “Hey, you’ll be fine. You can answer phones, you’re a strong independent young man.” Harry shoves back and rolls his eyes, but I can see a laugh shaking his shoulders.

I’m not exactly looking forward to spending what little time I am in the radio station. Sure I love hanging around with Harry and Zayn, but Zayn’s “costar” not so much. Not after a drunk one night stand freshmen year that neither of us were too happy about.

We enter the radio station and find it empty, save for the little room where an obnoxious voice is speaking about some band or another. Zayn passes the front desk and opens the door up to the studio.

“Louis Tomlinson,” The voice comes booming through the room as soon as the door is opened. “Now there’s a sight for sore cock!”

“Hey, no swearing on air!” Zayn reprimands.

Nick Grimshaw spins around in the chair next to the switchboard, laughing maniacally  “Sorry Malik. You’re late you know.” He presses a button on the board and music fills the room, meaning we can no longer be heard by whatever listeners there are.

“Yeah, I know,” Zayn rolls his eyes. “But I brought you a present.” He reaches for Harry’s arm and tugs the boy forward, which is when I notice how wide Harry’s eyes are as he stares up at Nick. “Harry, this is Nick Grimshaw. Nick, this is Harry-”

“Styles?” A grins splits Nick’s face. “Harry Styles! Look at you, then, all grown up!”

Harry looks down at his feet. “H-Hey Nick.”

Nick laughs. “‘H-hey Nick,” he mocks in a ridiculous impression of Harry’s voice. “Get your skinny arse over here!” I cross my arms in a decidedly not jealous stance and watch as Nick pulls Harry in for a large hug. It takes a moment but the younger boy finally hugs back. 

I look at Zayn who shrugs back, appearing just as confused. Nick finally breaks the hug and ruffles Harry’s curls a bit. “How’ve you been mate?” His face suddenly drops at this, and his hand goes back to Harry’s hair. “I heard about Gemma. Harry, I’m so sorry.”

Harry eyes widen even more, if possible, and I can see him trying not to shake his head. “No it’s fine. I’m fine.”

Nick frowns, his bushy eyebrows drooping. “But Harry, really-”

“ _Christ_  Grimmy, shut the fuck up.” Harry shout. That’s the loudest I’ve ever heard him speak, I don’t think he’s actually even swore the entire time he’s been around us either. The three of us watch him in disbelief until the silence is broken by Nick’s loud laughter.

He claps Harry on the back hard, and Harry just smiles up at him. “I missed you, kid. You staying with Zayn and Tomlinass, then?”

“Hey!” I snap.

Harry smiles at me, dark green eyes meeting mine. “Nick’s just jealous because you’ve got a better ass than he does.” He chuckles.

Nick gasps dramatically. “Ouch, low blow Styles.” 

“How do you two know each other?” I hate how snippy I sound. Judging by the glint in Zayn’s eye, my jealousy is completely obvious. 

Nick laughs and Harry cringes. “I was his first boyfriend.” He announces, sounding incredibly proud of himself.

“You were not,” Harry mutters, his face flaring red. “There was a guy before you…you were just my first kiss.” 

Nick smiles and gently nudges Harry’s chin with the knuckle of his crooked finger. “Still just as cute as ever, Hazza babe.”

Seeing my confused look, Harry starts to explain. “We went to the same school before he graduated. We kinda dated for a little bit too, before he left.” He fianlly pulls out of Nick’s arms and walks back over to me. Watching Nick’s expression, I wrap my arm around Harry’s waist again, pride surging in my chest when he blushes and slots in next to me.

“We should be getting back,” Zayn says. “You can only play that shit music for so long until someone notices.” 

Nick smirks, eying my arm around Harry’s waist, before nodding. “Yeah, we’ll catch up later Harry.” He shoots us one last ridiculous smile and reenters the booth. 

“Desk is over there, phone computer and everything,” Zayn says, pointing to the desk near the door. “Lunch is around noon which is when Nick and I switch out with the afternoon people. They’re nice girls, just try not to flirt with them too much.” He winks.

Harry stiffens a bit and nods. “Got it.”

“I’ll be back after my last class around five to pick you up, if you want.” Zayn offers and Harry agrees immediately. A small smile pulls at Zayn’s lips and he reaches over to put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Hey, don’t be nervous okay? You’ll be fine it’s an easy job.”

Harry bites at his lip. “Thank you.” His voice sounds like it’s going to break and I realize he isn’t nervous so much as overwhelmed. I can’t even imagine going from homeless to this in a week. While he continues to talk to Zayn about other things he’s supposed to be doing, I squeeze my fingers over his hip and send him my most reassuring smile. 

Zayn finally disappears into the booth with Nick, leaving me alone with Harry. He looks around the small entrance a bit, before sitting down in the chair behind the desk. When I return in my own chair I find him spinning around and have to bite back my grin. He looks like a little kid, kicking his torn up sneakers around as he goes.

“So, boyfriend huh?” Is the first thing that comes out of my mouth. I sound like an idiot, like a stupid jealous idiot. I am a stupid jealous idiot, actually, and I have no right to be.

Harry of course doesn’t say this, he just smiles at me like the cute bastard he is. “Not even for a few weeks, I was 15. He likes to pretend he’s the one who ‘converted’ me. Do you know him well?”

I think back to the drunken one night stand, and shrug. “You could say that.”

Harry smiles. “Nick can be a bit much.”

“He’s a bit of a dick.” I mutter. Not only does Nick feel the need to remind me we slept together every time we have the misfortune of speaking, but he’s told practically everyone he knows as well. He thinks he’s hilarious. He isn’t.

“So, Styles huh? Proper popstar name you’ve got there Harold.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “I thought you’re the popstar.” He says, going back to kicking his feet around and spinning.

“I try kid, I try.” I sigh at this and flip my hair as best I can which sends Harry into a fit of adorable giggling. Everything about Harry is adorable-verging-on-sexy which I quite like. It’s nice to watch his giggling mouth and also imagine those red lips doing other, more obscene things.

“Lou?”

I blink away from his lips, feeling a blush heating up my cheeks. “Sorry, zoned out.”

“S’alright.” My heart practically stops when he opens his mouth slightly, licks his lips, and smiles at me.

Harry and I hang around his desk until noon when we leave Zayn and Nick and go to get lunch. During the whole space of time there was only one phone call coming from a girl who wanted to talk to Zayn because she has _the biggest crush on him, like, ever_ and wanted to ask him out. Watching Harry calmly explain Zayn’s sexuality to her was probably the highlight of my life.

I tug Harry with me into the university cafeteria, refusing to let him complain to me about wasting money on him. After I practically force him to eat a sandwich with me, it’s time for Harry to go back to the station and for me to leave. 

Perrie and Danielle, the girls who run the station in the afternoon, start cooing over him immediately. I leave right after Perrie suggests to the radio that they might do his hair and makeup and tweet about it and Harry starts sending me frantic looks. 

I’m halfway through helping Mrs. Baker with her boring lesson when my phone buzzes with a text from Perrie that includes a picture of Harry, hair up in pigtails and blush on his cheeks, smiling like an absolute loon. I have to cover my laughter with a coughing fit that leads to an actual coughing fit and I embarrass myself in front of the entire class.

Zayn’s name pops up on my phone a few hours later when I’ve made it back home. “What’s up, Z?” I ask, turning back to my laptop. Part of the internship requires me reporting on it, eventually coming up with a paper on how it’s helped me in some way, so I can get credit for it. I’ve been putting off starting it for awhile now but I have the flat to myself so I figure I might as well start it.

“It’s actually uhm…it’s Harry.”

I smile softly and close my laptop. “Oh, hi Harry.”

“Hi…Zayn said I should be the one to ask you this but now he’s smirking at me. Why are you smirking at me?” I chuckle at the muffled sounds of Harry talking to Zayn, whose laugh I can hear clearly through the line. 

“Anyway,” he starts again. “Nick wants to go out to celebrate my new job and everything, and I wanted to know if you could come too.”

I pause. “Why me?”

“Because I like you, Lou.” Harry says as if it’s the obvious answer. I almost say yes right then but I remember I’ll have to spend the night with not only Nick, but Liam who more than likely won’t let me near a drink.

I wipe at my eyes and groan. “But Nick will be there?”

“You don’t like Nick?” Harry sounds heartbroken and dammit, there’s Zayn’s ridiculous laughter in the background again. “It’s okay, I’ll see you later then-”

“No,” I interrupt. Sighing, I drop my head into my hand and curse myself. “I uhm…I’ll come Curly.”

I can hear the smile in his voice, can practically see the dimples on his cheeks poking out. “Great! Here’s Zayn, he’s gonna tell you where it is. I’ll see you later Louis.” There’s some commotion as he passes the phone over followed by more ridiculous laughter.

“Shut the fuck up Zayn.”

As expected, Liam gives mean ultimatum before we enter the pub, something along the lines of _If you get drunk tonight I swear to god I’ll never speak to you again and I will make your life a living hell_ which I take seriously because Liam never threatens me. That’s how I ended up here, at a table alone with Nick Grimshaw and a very drunk Harry Styles.

Niall, Liam, and Zayn have abandoned me here, running off to get more pints and never returning. I can see them across the bar talking to a few other people from school. I should go too, but for some reason I really don’t want to leave Harry’s side, and Harry won’t leave Nick’s. So here I am, watching on jealously as drunken Harry tries to tell a knock knock joke. I only allowed myself one drink, just to get the edge off, and it was nowhere near enough.

“How did you end up with Louis and the boys?” Nick interrupts Harry halfway through his speech about a giraffe. 

Harry frowns, looking adorably confused, before nodding. “Oh, Niall gave me money and then Louis found me.” He says. 

Nick, who isn’t nearly as drunk as Harry is, looks to me. “What’s he talking about? Is your Irishman trying to start a prostitution ring with my Hazza?” Harry laughs loudly, not covering his mouth like he does when he’s sober, just letting it out. 

“No,” I growl. “ _Your_  Hazza was homeless. Maybe if you were such good friends you’d know that.”

“Homeless?” Nick turns to Harry, who’s draping himself all over the older man by now and making ridiculous noises. I clutch my empty glass even tighter when Nick brushes Harry’s face and tilts his chin up until their eyes meet. “Babe, why didn’t you call me?”

Harry giggles and pokes Nick’s nose. “Because you would have called Dad and you can’t do that. He doesn’t like me very much.” He drags out his words even more than he normally does, punctuating it with cute little giggles every few syllables. 

Nick winces at this. “Harry, you told me he stopped.”

Harry just laughs again, getting this mischievous look in his eyes. “I lied!” He claps his hands like a child, obviously very amused with himself. “I lie about everything!” Nick looks far from impressed but doesn’t say anything else, just lets Harry laze all over him.

The only noises for awhile are Harry’s little  _boops_  and  _beeps_  he makes while he pokes at Nick’s face and body. He reaches for his glass, only his third beer of the night, and pouts when he finds it empty. “Well, oh dear.” He says, being completely serious, and I laugh.

“Babe, why don’t you come back to mine?” Nick’s voice breaks through the chatter again. “I’ll take care of you.” I swear if I didn’t have as much self control I’d jump across the table and pulls Nick’s hair like a teenage girl. 

Luckily for me Harry speaks up first. “Well what about Louis?”

“What about Louis?”

Harry looks to me, cheeks red from drinking and pupils blown wide. “Louis has to come too, I don’t wanna leave him. He’s very pretty.” He covers his mouth with his hand and erupts into more giggling. “We watched Aladdin and I told him about the fireplace! He has a very nice face…that rhymes! Face, place, face, place!” Harry looks astounded by this information. He launches into a conversation with himself about other rhyming words.

“He doesn’t drink very often I’m guessing.” I laugh. 

Nick turns to glare at me, probably mad that I’m inhibiting him possibly getting laid tonight. “No. He doesn’t. You know what boys, I think I’m gonna head out.”

“Please do.” I mutter.

Harry starts shaking his head. “Oh no, Nick don’t leave! Stay! Stay and drink with us, Nicholas. Grimshaw, Grimmy, Grimmers, stay.” He wraps his arms around Nick’s neck and starts whining like a lost puppy.

Nick shakes him off and stands up. “Stay with Pretty Boy, how about that?” He nods towards me with a shit-eating grin

“How about you fuck off.” I growl.

Harry’s eyes go even wider if possible and he looks at me in surprise. I swear he looks like he’s about to start crying. “Don’t fight. Please don’t fight, you guys, I don’t like fighting nu-uh.”

“We aren’t fighting.” I reassure him. Harry nods but brings his knees up to his chin anyway, wrapping himself into a small ball. 

Nick drops a quick kiss to the top of Harry’s head, and then leaves. “See ya tomorrow Curly, bright and early!” He shouts as he walks to the door. Harry waves back frantically until Nick is well past gone. 

I relax back in the booth, glad to be rid of him. I can now spend the next few hours watching Harry and being regrettably sober. Harry slides out of his side of the booth and stumbles over to my side, leaning on my shoulder and smiling up to me. How he still manages to be adorable right now is beyond me.

“Louis I’m drunk.” He tells me.

I laugh and brush the stray curls out of his eyes. “I can see that.” 

Harry shakes his head a few times. “No drinking for you though. Nope, nope, nope, none. Pinky promise.” He tugs on my pinky with his own, smiling brightly. He doesn’t let go though, just tugs my hand down with his and starts playing with my fingers. “You don’t have to like Nick, I forgive you.” He says, not looking up our hands. 

I laugh and shake my head. “Thanks Harry.”

Niall picks this moment to return back to us, holding food as usual. He’s managed to find himself a basket of chips which he sets in the middle of the table like a trophy. “You’re welcome, idiots.” He drops into the booth across from us and starts eating. When he notices Harry, he laughs. “How’s it going?”

“Fantastic!” Harry laughs, holding our hands up in the air for a moment. “I’ve discovered a word that rhymes with orange, it’s smorange which isn’t a word actually.  _Yet._ ”

Niall smiles at me and I roll my eyes. “That’s great mate, glad you’re having a good time.” Harry hums happily and picks at my fingers, bending them and pushing them back until they crack. I don’t mind though, it’s nice to have his hand in mine at all.

I really should stop thinking like that about him. Even though I don’t want to admit it, and I won’t ever admit it, Liam is right. I can’t afford to fall for Harry because it won’t end well, nothing ever does with me. The only thing I would end up doing would be breaking my own heart and ruining him, ruining his wide innocent eyes and his laugh, because that’s what I do. I ruin people.

“I’m sorry I lie to you,” Harry says suddenly. I look over at him in confusion but he doesn’t meet my eyes. “I don’t want to.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

Harry just giggles again and closes his eyes, settling in close to my side. “I have to lie to you and I don’t want to because you’re so sweet and your eyes are so blue and I just want you. And I don’t want you to hate me.”

A quick look up shows me that Niall isn’t paying attention, too busy glued to his phone and devouring the chips, so I turn back to Harry. His giggling has stopped completely now, replaced with a frown. Tears are forming in his closed eyes, gathering at the tips of his eyelashes and hanging there. 

“I don’t think I could ever hate you Hazza.” I whisper, brushing a thumb across his cheeks. 

He shakes his head, sighing sadly. “You could. If you knew, you could, and you would. But that’s alright, I understand.” I want to ask him what he’s talking about, but it’s too late. Harry falls asleep right there in the middle of a pub-curls tickling my neck, mouth hanging open, and drunk-and I find it endearing. 

He stay asleep too, rousing only to walk from the pub to the taxi and from the taxi up to the flat. I roll my eyes when the other boys smile at me at in the car, and when Zayn starts muttering about me being domestic when I lay Harry out on the couch and slip him out of his shoes and pants. 

“Be careful, alright?” Liam says to me right before I head back to my room. “I approve of course, just…take it slow.”

I roll my eyes. “We’re just friends Li, trust me.” But a part of me is happy however. I’m happy that Liam isn’t angry with me for once in a long time, I’m happy that they all think something could happen with Harry, even if it won’t. I can’t be happy for too long  though, because that isn’t the way my life or anyone else’s works, is it?

At about three in the morning I’m woken up by the sound of someone yelling. “Harry? Harry!” I groan and flip around in bed. For some reason the door is open and light is shining in from the living room. I’m about to put it off as Niall going for yet another midnight snack when I realize it’s him yelling.

“Guys? Louis, someone wake up!” Niall shouts. I jolt awake suddenly, my brain still fuzzy  from sleep, but clear enough to know something’s wrong. I trip out of bed, my feet caught up in the sheets. Even sober I’m clumsy.

When I reach the living room I see Niall has ever light turned on and he’s kneeling at the side of the couch, trying to shake Harry awake. The younger boy is whimpering like he’s in pain and shaking terribly, his breath coming out in too short gasps.

“What happened?”

Niall whips his head up and lets out a relieved sigh when he sees me. “I-I don’t know. I just went for some water and he’s like this. I can’t get him to wake up Lou, help me.” His voice breaks in fear and he goes back to trying to shake Harry awake.

I nod and drop down to Harry’s side as well. Niall pulls back a bit and lets me brush my fingers over his curls. I don’t know what to do, I’ve never seen anyone do this before. 

“Harry, can you hear me?”

Harry moans in pain again, clutching at his stomach. “I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to,” he mumbles back. “Please stop. Help, someone please. Stop.” It takes me a moment to realize he’s talking in his sleep, not to me. He’s having a nightmare and a panic attack.

I shake his shoulders gently, leaning forward to whisper to him. “It’s just a dream, wake up,” I say directly in his ear. “You have to wake up, alright? Harry.” 

He gasps and his eyes fly open. “Stop, stop, stop.” The words fall out of his mouth in a jumbled mess. I go to move back but he grabs my arms and stops me. Recognition passes over his glassy green eyes and he lets out a short sob. “L-louis?”

I nod. “Yeah it’s me. Breathe Harry, alright? It was just a dream, you’re okay I promise.”

Harry grabs my shirt and pulls forward until he’s sliding off the couch and into my arms. Once there he curls up into the fetal position and starts sobbing against my chest. I make soft lulling noises and rub his back consolingly.

“Are you hurt? What happened?”

He shakes his head. “No I’m f-fine just…scared.” Harry says through heavy breathing. His fingers tighten on my shirt and I can hear him counting quietly to the time of his chest rising and falling until it slows down. 

“It’s alright, I promise.” I whisper into his curls. “Won’t let anyone hurt you. It’s okay.” Harry nods and curls in closer to my chest. His eyes flutter closed and he lets out one long breath.

“Thank you.”

His voice sounds so teary and broken my stomach flips. “Nothing to thank me for,” I say. “You’re safe, go back to sleep.”

“Please don’t leave.” He whispers, his arms moving to wrap around my back. 

I shake my head. “I won’t, I’ll be right here. I promise.” Harry nods.

Niall watches on until Harry falls back asleep, luckily with no more bad dreams. He shakes his head and runs a hand through his mussed up hair. “Christ, that was scary,” he mutters. “Thanks mate.”

I shrug. “It’s fine. Help me get him back up, would you?” Niall nods and helps me stand up, his arms under Harry’s knees. When we try to lay him back on the couch, Harry stirs. 

“No, no.” He cries, his grip tightening on me. 

Niall looks to me. “Need help?”

I shake my head. “It’s alright, come on.” The two of us slowly carry Harry out of the living room and back into ours, settling down on my bed. Niall leaves to turn off the lights while I try to shift Harry around a bit until I’m comfortable enough to lay down.

Niall reenters the room, shutting the door softly behind him. “Do you think he was dreaming about those guys that beat him up?” He asks, his bottom lip sticking out sadly. 

I shrug. “Coulda been. He sounded like he was being hurt.”

Niall nods, watching the two of us, before going back to his bed. “It kind of makes ya think, doesn’t it?” He says softly. I wait for him to elaborate, which he does once he’s laying down. “He doesn’t really have anyone to be there for him. It makes me think of you, how you don’t talk to your family and…we’re kind of like your family ya know? And he wasn’t lucky enough to get that.”

“Yeah,” I clear my throat, refusing to cry. “My fucked up version of a family.”

Niall chuckles a bit. “Yeah I guess.” He pauses, before adding. “I love you Louis.”

“I love you too Nialler,” I whisper. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

I try to sleep after that but I end up staying up even later just thinking. I think about what Niall said, and then I think about what Harry had said when he thought I was asleep, when he told me how lucky I was for the boys. I am lucky to have them, I realize, more lucky than I’ll ever really know. Maybe thats what Harry needs too.

Harry squirms a bit in my arms, moving up to rest his head against my collarbone. He sighs in contentment, a smile on his lips. I tuck the quilt up higher around him not wanting for him to be cold. Finally, I kiss the top of his head, and let my eyes fall closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the sake of the story, Nick is about the same age as Louis


	7. Chapter 6

_“You did this Harry,” The voice growls out. “You were never meant to be here, and now you’ve ruined everything for me.” A hand swipes out and lands a hard blow to my chest, sending me reeling backwards and gasping for air._

_“Please,” I cry. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to I-”_

_“But you did!” The voice is screaming now. “You did this to us, you killed her!” Light glints off the knife in his hand as he gets closer and closer. I scramble backwards, trying desperately to find something to hold onto around me. “Now it’s your turn, you bastard. Your turn to go.”_

_I shake my head, trying to cover myself with my hands but I have no idea where he’s going to go with the knife. Is he going to kill me too? Is he going to drag it out, keep me on the brink of death for as long as possible?_

_“Please don’t, please.” I plead uselessly._

_“You deserve this Harry. Say it!”_

_I nod, this time agreeing with him. “I do, I’m so sorry. I deserve it.” There’s another punch, this time to my face. I whimper, cowering in the darkness. The only thing I can see is the knife coming straight for me. Incapable of going anything else, I just start screaming, praying to god that someone will hear me and come help._

_“Harry,” A different voice whispers in my ear. It’s not the same as the one screaming, this is a soft and familiar voice. “Harry, wake up it’s just a dream. It’s me, it’s Louis. Harry?”_

“Harry?” I snap my eyes open and reach out for something, anything to hold onto, only to find arms wrapped securely around me. Hands come up to my fringe, brushing it softly away from my forehead. “Shh, hey it’s alright. It’s just me, you’re alright.” I look up finally and see Louis, framed by the sunlight streaming through the window and he smiles when he sees me looking. I swear he’s an angel. “Hey kid.”

“I’m sorry.” Is the first thing out of my mouth. I start shaking again. Louis’s going to be angry with me for waking him up twice during the night, he’s going to be angry that I spent the night in his bed, that I’m acting like a child. He’s going to yell at me. Maybe he’ll even kick me out, maybe he’ll decide I’m too much to deal with.

Louis frowns when he sees me shaking. “Hey, hey, calm down. It’s alright, there’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m a big brother, I’m used to nightmares.”

“From little girls.” I mutter, but I do somehow calm down, silently counting my breathing in and out until my heart slows down.

“I dunno, I’d say you’re pretty enough to be a girl. You looked good in that makeup yesterday.” Louis says, faking nonchalance.

I groan and cover my face with my hands, wanting to disappear. “Don’t remind me, that was a bitch to get off.” Louis laughs his twinkling bell laugh that goes straight to my stomach, waking up those butterflies again. We’re silent for a moment and I notice the situation I’m in. Louis’s sitting up in bed, one arm wrapped around my back and the other under my knees, leaning back against the headboard. Blushing furiously, I wiggle away until I’m sitting back up on the bed on my own.

“What were you dreaming about?” Louis asks. When he sees me freeze up again, his hand comes down on mine to squeeze it gently. “Was it the guys that beat you up?” He sounds so innocent and sincere, his blue eyes searching mine. What can I do but nod? Louis sighs and moves his hand up to my hair instead, scratching gently at my scalp. He smiles when I lean over into his touch and let my eyes close. “We should have gone to the cops, Harry. I’m sorry that’s my fault.”

I shake my head as best I can without pushing his hand off. “Nothing would have happened anyway,” I mutter. “No one ever catches people like that anyway.”  _Besides that, I would have ended up back home as soon as they realized how old I was._

“Still though, if they hurt you that bad…” Louis trails off. It’s true, those guys did hurt me pretty badly, but it’s not anything I’m not used to. I probably could have handled it even if Louis hadn’t come along although I don’t regret that he did. Especially right now.

“It could have just been the drinks,” I say, and it’s partially true. I haven’t had a flashback in a long time, I hardly think it’s a coincidence that they came back while I was drunk. I open my eyes again and when I see Louis smirking at me, I groan. “I uhm…I don’t drink a lot. Or often.”

“Yeah, I could tell.”

I really just want to curl up into a ball and die right about now. “What was I saying?” I can very vaguely remember yelling at Nick about something and falling asleep in the taxi, but that’s about it. Just judging from Louis’ amused expression, that definitely was not it.

Louis shrugs, and I can tell he’s just pretending to be causal. “Oh you know, the usual. Horrible jokes, trying to rhyme as many words as possible, you even turned Nick down for me.”

My eyes go wide. “I did what?”

Louis laughs, nodding. “Nick asked you to go home with him but you told him you’d only go if I could come too because, and I quote, I’m ‘very pretty’.”

I feel myself blushing all the way down to my chest. When Louis starts laughing again I drop my head into my hands and shake my head. “I only had three drinks, I’m such a fucking lightweight,” I mutter. “I’m sorry about that.”

Louis just smiles and pats me on the back. “Nothing to worry about, it was funny.” He then pushes himself off the bed and stretches, something popping a few times in his back. “Besides, who doesn’t like to hear that they’re pretty every once in awhile?” He winks at me and leaves.

I look around the room and see Niall spread out across his bed and still sleeping. The clock above the bed ticks about twenty times I count, until Louis returns with a glass in one hand pills in the other.

“Liam’s usually the one to bring me this, but then again I’m usually still asleep by the time Liam wakes up.”

I cringe at this when I take the pills from his hands. “I’m sorry I woke you up…again. And that I woke Niall up last night. And that I slept in your bed…and-”

“That you’re even here at all?” Louis interrupts, one eyebrow lifted in question. That makes me blush again and shake my head.. He sighs. “Harry, this is the kind of thing friends do for each other. Like, if Niall were the one having bad dreams I’d be over there in a heartbeat. When I wake up with a massive hangover they’re all here to help and make fun of me for the shit I said the night before. We’re your friends, Harry.”

I look back up, half expecting for him to laugh and take it back, but he doesn’t. Louis just smiles, blue eyes incredibly honest like always. “You…you’re my friends?” I ask slowly.

“Of course we’re your friends, why else would we want you here?”

 _I ask myself the same question everyday_ I think to myself. Of course I don’t say that. I just smile at him and nod. “Thanks.”

Louis follows me into the kitchen where I go about making us pancakes, adding chocolate chips because Louis insists and I can’t say no when he’s grinning at me like that. Niall joins us next, surprised to see we’re all up, but then sad when he hears why we’re awake.

“Aw, poor Haz!” He cries, wrapping his arms around my waist and tugging me away from the stove to hug. “Are you alright?”

I smile and nod, hugging him back with one arm. “Yeah, m’fine, it was just a dream.” Niall sighs and mutters something about stupid assholes under his breath, before sitting down at the table and devouring more pancakes than I’ve ever seen one person eat.

Liam comes out just as Louis is running off to work, telling Niall and I that he and Zayn are coming in late, so we should just leave. And that’s how I ended up taking the London Underground with Niall Horan, who feels the need to stop at every homeless person he sees and give them whatever he has on him, including a bottle of orange juice to one woman sitting around with her daughter.

“It doesn’t hurt to be nice,” Niall says when he notices me watching him in awe. “People are always so rude to one another and I don’t understand why. Homeless people just need a little help, that’s all. Like you, see? You’re a great person, even if you did kinda smell bad when we first met.” And I just smile at him because Niall is ridiculously understanding and giving, almost unbelievably so.

Niall leads me around proudly until we reach campus and have to split up at the radio station. “Hey Harry, wanna get lunch with me today?” He asks, nudging me slightly.

“Uhm, yeah Niall, that’d be great.”

Niall beams. “Great! I’ll come by the studio after my class!” Everything to Niall seems to be something worth yelling and grinning about, it’s endearing. He claps me on the back and runs off to his class, leaving me alone at the desk. I sigh and kick my feet around again, seeing how many times I can spin around with one kick. I’ve gotten myself up to five when Nick walks in.

He smirks as soon as he sees me, walking up to the desk. “Hey kid, feeling alright?”

I scowl at him. “Shutup Nick. My head feels like it’s going to split in half.” My hangover isn’t all that bad really, not since Louis gave me the medicine, but I want Nick to feel bad. This is partially his fault, he knows how I get with alcohol.

Nick laughs and jumps up onto the desk, crossing one of his long legs over the other. “You had quite a lot to say last night, Hazza,”

I shake my head. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

Nick rolls his eyes and reaches forward to tug at one of my curls. “Alright, fine. Just thought maybe you’d be interested in the fact that you admitted that you lied about your dad.” He says it slowly, practically spelling out each word.

I drop the pen in my hand and shake my head. “I was drunk.” I say, my voice shaking.

Nick leans down until he meets my eyes again. “Does that somehow make it not true?” He asks.

I glare right back, really not wanting to have this conversation. “He stopped. I didn’t lie, you were there to see it happen.”

“Then why did you run off?” Nick shoots back.

“I don’t know! Because I fucking felt like it Nick, that’s why. You hated it there just as much as I did, you disappeared, how is it any of your business?”

Nick narrows his eyes. “And Louis, what about him? Are you fucking or what?”

That catches me off guard. It was completely out of nowhere, which was probably why Nick said it. “Oh, fuck off.” I growl, spinning away, unable to think of another answer that won’t have me blushing like an idiot.

“Harry-”

“I said fuck off, Nick!” My voice rings through the studio. I look up and see Nick looking stunned by my shouting, and Zayn now standing in the doorway with one eyebrow raised.

“Am I interrupting?” He asks.

Nick rolls his eyes and slides off the desk easily. “Nope, just having a lovely conversation with Harry here.” With that he leaves, slamming the door of the studio after him.

Zayn looks over at me, concern written all over his face. “Are you alright? He can be somewhat of an asshole.”

I just shrug. “Yeah, s’fine. I’m used to it.”

“You’re okay though?” Zayn leans in close to my face, a small smirk playing at his lips eventually. “Louis told me what happened last night.” He pulls back and laughs.

I nod, smiling slightly. “I’m fine, thanks for being so concerned.”

He reaches over and pats my back, shaking his head like he’s thinking of something even more hilarious than my bad dreams. “Don’t worry about it, Liam still has nightmares about showing up to school naked.”

I bark out a laugh, covering my mouth immediately. “Are you serious?” I try to imagine Liam having a nightmare about something so juvenile, but I just can’t see it.

“Unfortunately. For some reason, he thinks he’s still in high school so he always wakes up yelling at Louis for letting him out when he isn’t ‘decent’.  _Decent_  for chrissake, I’m in love with a forty year old woman,” Zayn chuckles but smiles fondly at the thought of Liam. He then turns quickly back to me. “Don’t tell him I told you that or you’ll end up sharing that couch with me.”

I cross my heart, grinning. “Scouts honor.”

Zayn sighs dramatically. “You’re a good kid Harry, I knew I could trust you.” He ruffles my curls and disappears into the booth. I can hear his voice on the radio telling everyone about their “highly attractive new receptionist”. I hardly think it’s a coincidence when there’s an influx of calls asking if I’m a girl and how close I’ve gotten to Zayn Malik’s genitals. It’s something I never want to relive.

Niall comes running into the studio for lunch, bouncing with energy as always even after a morning of lectures. He drags me out of the station, making excuse after excuse to Zayn and Nick for taking me earlier than I’m supposed to because there’s some sort of bake sale going on and Niall needs to buy cupcakes. Well he wants to buy cupcakes, but he makes it out to be a life or death situation.

A dozen cupcakes and a pile of other assorted foods from the cafeteria later, Niall and I find a booth and sit down, splitting the food down the middle. I notice Niall gives me more than he gives himself, but when I mention it he just blushes and tells me  _that’s a fuckin’ lie_. I smile at him but don’t push the issue, instead I start unwrapping one of the chocolate cupcakes that have the name of some club printed on the top.

“So, you and Louis huh?” I cough in surprise and Niall makes it worse by starting to wiggle his eyebrows around suggestively. If I wasn’t already choking on my cupcake, I am now.

“What?!” I croak out.

Niall rolls his eyes. “I see the way ya look at each other, you’re both idiots,” He dips one of his chips into some ketchup and chews it thoughtfully. “What do ya think your kids would look like? I mean, if you could.”

I shake my head and put a hand up. “Wait, what? Niall, what are you talking about?”

Niall stares at me for a second, eyebrow raised. When I don’t say anything he laughs. “The two of you are absolutely gone for each other, you know that right? I mean, for chrissake, Louis didn’t even drink last night because he was too busy playin’ alpha dog with Nick over you while you got white girl wasted. Louis always drinks. Always.”

I shake my head, eyebrows furrowed. “No but he…no. Louis doesn’t like me that way Niall, he’s just a friend like you guys are.” It feels good to say  _friend_  when referring to the boys, like Louis said. I decide that I like it.

Niall sighs and drops back against the booth shaking his head. “You’re gonna be difficult about it.” He moans, making it sound like some great tragedy.

“Niall there isn’t anything to be difficult about.” I laugh. Niall doesn’t laugh along with me, just looks at me with these sad eyes and drops his head onto the table.

He stays there for a little while too, until it becomes obvious that I’m not going to be saying anything. “Let me tell you something about Louis Tomlinson,” Niall says, pushing himself back up and pointing at me with a chicken finger. “Louis gets crushes and those crushes are incredibly obvious, and right now, Louis has a massive crush on you. But he isn’t going to say anything, because that’s not how Louis works. He’s going to cry about it, drink about it, and tease you about it, but nothing is going to happen unless you make a move.”

I stare at him, unsure of what I should say. I never really had a lot of crushes back home, I didn’t have time between dealing with my schoolwork and with home life. Of course there was Nick, but Nick was always just around. Even when we were younger, Nick used to drag me around by my hand and kiss me on the playground if our classes went out for recess at the same time. After Nick and before him were just flings, a few heated snogs here and there, it was never anything major. But I’ve never really pined after someone before.

 _Not like I’m currently pining for Louis._ I shake the thought out of my head and reach for another cupcake. “Louis just seems like the flirty type, I don’t think he actually likes me.” I say.

Niall groans, drawing it out and flopping down in his seat. I just grin and go back to eating while he continues to whine. He perks up though when he sees something behind me. “Liam! Liam, baby, sweetheart, love-”

“What, Ni?” Liam laughs, sinking down across from me and pushing Niall over on the seat. He notices me and smiles. “Hey Harry. Are you eating all this by yourself?” He sounds genuinely curious, like I actually might have just grabbed armfuls of food for myself. I smile and shake my head. “Ah, Niall then.”

Niall sits up and sighs, long and drawn out. “Harry won’t listen to me, I’m trying to tell him Louis has a huge crush on him and that he should do something about it, but he won’t listen.”

Liam groans and rolls his eyes. “When Louis finds out you told him that he’s going to murder you-”

“Yeah yeah, I know, and get rid of my bed so he has the room to himself. I’ve heard it a million times.” Niall waves his hand around like the subject of his murder isn’t important.

Liam smiles at Niall softly, before turning back to me. He seems to think it over in his mind before speaking, choosing his words very carefully. “Louis isn’t…he’s been through a lot. He isn’t so good with his emotions.”

“He’s a really nice guy.” I say. hoping that that’s the end of the conversation. Liam smiles at me and nods.

“Yeah, he really is.”

Niall opens his mouth, probably to tell me about how I look at Louis when he isn’t looking, or how I blush as soon as Louis speaks to me, or a bunch of things that up until now I had hoped I was the only one to notice. I stop him by turning back to Liam and changing the subject.

“Did you know that girls are constantly calling the radio station asking about Zayn?”

This provides the two of them with enough material to talk about until they have to go off to their next classes and I have to return to the station. When I walk in, Nick has already gone much to my relief. Perrie and Danielle are in the studio and wave through the glass doors when they see me coming in. They take the next music break as an excuse to run out and say hi to me.

They’re very nice girls, a little addicted to twitter and instagram to be honest, but lovely nonetheless. Perrie tells me something about the retweets on my picture that I don’t understand because I never really got into twitter, but I think it’s a good thing. She then insists on taking another one, this time of just her and I, sans makeup thank god. She promptly types out  _Hazzastagram!!! who thinks Harry needs a twitter???_  and posts it on instagram.

“Did you know you’re very attractive?” Danielle asks, taking one of the cupcakes I had managed to save from Niall’s grasps earlier.

I blush furiously and shake my head. “Thanks but-”

“No, you totally are,” Perrie says, as if it’s just a fact of life. “I’m telling ya, get a twitter and you’ll be even more famous in this city than Zayn is…well maybe not the whole city, but at least the whole uni.”

I just laugh and politely decline, because twitters and things like that are traceable and that’s the last thing I need right now. I’m still technically a runaway for the next few months, and if the police wanted to they could take me right back home, especially if someone found out I was in London.

They just shrug, Perrie pouting a little, and return back to their broadcast which has been silent for a little while, but there probably aren’t enough listeners to notice or who would even care. It’s kind of nice, I think, to be able just to have fun at a job like they are. My sister used to work two jobs and she hated both of them, usually ending up back home exhausted and nearing tears until I cooked her something or watched a movie and cuddled with her. She deserved a job like this, easy and carefree.

Liam and Niall show up to go home later since Zayn has a late lecture on Tuesdays. We make a quick stop at the grocery store for milk and beer, necessities according to Niall, and end up coming home with everything I need to make pasta for us.

Louis is spread across the couch, laptop on his belly, textbooks scattered around the floor next to him, and a pair of glasses perched on his nose when we walk in. He looks like he’s on the verge of falling asleep when Niall shouts, “Honey I’m home!” and startles him awake. He grabs onto his laptop protectively and looks around, eyes blinking in confusion.

“Whasat?” He grumbles, slipping the glasses off and wiping at his eyes. He sees the three of us and smiles. “Hey Hazza.”

Niall rolls his eyes. “‘Hey Hazza’? No ‘Hey Liam’ or ‘Hey Niall, my most favorite roommate’, no, it’s just ‘Hey Hazza’. I see how it is Lou.” He huffs and falls onto the couch, just barely missing Louis’ legs.

Louis smiles and reaches up with his socked feet to poke at Niall’s face. “Hello Nialler baby,” Louis croons. “Love of my life, fire of my soul-”

“That wasn’t what I wanted.” Niall grumbles, but he eventually smiles and pulls Louis’ feet into his lap. Lam walks into the kitchen to put the groceries away, while I perch on the arm of the couch.

Louis looks back over to me and waves sleepily. “How was everyone’s day?” He asks, his eyes never once leaving mine. The butterflies in my stomach are unceasing around Louis as always.

“Harry and I ate a bunch of cupcakes, you should have seem him, he ate like four. And I got a B on this paper I completely bullshitted, so that was good,” Niall says, reaching for the remote and turning on a football game. “How was your day, Lou?”

Lou shrugs and stretches, closing his laptop and putting it down. “Same as usual, got hit on by a bunch of teenage girls. Living the good life, Ni.” He smiles and reaches down to shut his textbooks, which are all about teaching techniques, before sitting up. “I’m gonna get a beer, you want one Nialler?”

Niall frowns a bit and I can see the conflicting emotions in his eyes. “Louis-”

Louis cuts him off with a shake of his head and a flourish of his hands. “Nothing to worry about, I am very much here, and very much staying here right? I can’t go wandering off drunk and getting into trouble,” He pushes himself off the couch and points at me. “You want one? I could do with a few compliments right about now.”

I blush, cursing my drunk side, and shake my head. “No, I’m gonna start dinner anyway.” Louis nods and motions for me to go first.

He follows me out into the kitchen where Liam is on the phone with Zayn, whispering and grinning to himself. Louis rolls his eyes and hip checks the other boy. “You just saw him not even an hour ago!” He laughs.

Liam rolls his eyes and walks out of the room, and when he passes I can hear him and Zayn just talking about their days. It must be nice, I think, to have someone who cares so much, someone that just wants to hear every little detail about your life, even if you were together for most of it. As if reading my mind, Louis passes behind me towards the fridge, his hand pressing softly into my hip as he goes.

“Never told me how your day was, babe.”

My breath catches in my throat and I replay what Niall said to me earlier over and over again in my head. Does Louis really like me? He can’t of course, I’m just some homeless kid he picked up who cries too much and gets drunk too easily, and Louis is just a flirt. At least, that’s what I think.

“It was okay,” I say, grabbing a few pans to start cooking. “Nothing much happened, Nick and I kind of fought a little bit, and Perrie and Danielle tried to convince me to sing for the radio…I ate a bunch of cupcakes. I didn’t get nearly the sugar rush that Niall did, though.”

“You’re sweet enough, Hazza.” Louis whispers directly into my ear, making me jump in surprise. He laughs and pops open the beers in his hands. “What did you and Nick fight about?”

I shrug. “It wasn’t anything important.” Louis raises an eyebrow at me but leaves it, taking Niall’s beer out to him in the living room.

I put a pan on the stove and flip the heat on, before grabbing the chicken from the fridge. When I turn back around to grab the pasta and the sauce I see Louis, standing in the doorway watching.

“Are you going to cook that chicken?” He asks, sipping lazily at the beer.

I smile. “That’s the idea yes,” Louis nods but doesn’t move, just leans against the wall and watches. I stand there for a moment with my ingredients in hand, waiting for him to say something. “Do you want me to teach you?” I ask finally.

Louis frowns. “It’s just pasta, right? I can do that, I think,” My grin widens as he comes forward and looks it all over. “Okay, but the chicken though. Why is that a thing?”

I try to bite back my laughter as I walk back up next to him. “What do you mean?”

Louis rolls his eyes. “You heard me, why is that there? You’re an overachiever, Harold, and I don’t like it.” I let my laugh out, unable to control it anymore, and Louis grins up at me.

“It’s there because plain pasta is boring, no one likes plain pasta.” I explain through my giggling. “We cook the chicken, and then make the pasta.”

Louis puts his half empty beer bottle down on the counter and smirks at me. “Are we growing the tomatoes for the sauce too?” He teases.

“Are you scared you won’t be able to do it?” I raise my eyebrows in question. This prompts Louis to push me out of the way, rolling his eyes at me and starting to open the chicken. As soon as his fingers come in contact with the meat, he squeals and jumps back.

“Harry, it’s disgusting!” Louis shrieks. “I touched it, oh my god.” He runs for the sink, turning it on and holding his hands under there, muttering about diseases and dying of chicken aids. I just smile at him and put the chicken cutlets in the pan while he carries on.

Louis decides it’s safe to come back over when they chicken is cooked enough to look normal. He shakes his head at me. “I can’t believe you made me do that,” He sighs. “I’m probably infested now with raw chicken germs.”

“I never made you do anything, you touched it on your own.” I point out. Louis rolls his eyes and turns back to the food where I’m flipping the chicken around. When I notice him watching on in interest, I offer him the spatula. “Do you wanna try? Just don’t drop any of it.”

Louis takes the spatula from me, sticking his tongue out. “I’ve had it with your teasing, Mr. Styles. I’ll have you know I can in fact flip chicken.” Louis stops and very carefully flips one of the pieces over. When it does it successfully, he turns to me with the proudest look I’ve ever seen on his face.

“Very good Louis, you’re learning.” I joke.

Louis’s eyes crinkle so much they almost shut at the praise. “What else can I do, I wanna do it.” He says, sounding incredibly excited at the prospect.

I look around, not really sure what else there is he can do right now, so I let him watch over the chicken while I get the noodles and the sauce started. This apparently was a bad idea because when I look back, he has somehow managed to burn the bottoms of most of the chicken. I laugh and assure him it’s fine, but suggest that he might want to stick to boiling the noodles from now on. Louis ends up watching the noodles as they bubble, determined not to let them stick to the bottom of the pan, while I chop up the unburnt sides of the chicken and drop the pieces into the sauce which is in a pan now as well.

“See, easy peasy.” Louis says with a grin.

I can’t help but to grin right back. “Yeah sure, easy peasy Lou.” He chuckles at the nickname and goes back to stirring the noodles.

“I think I’m getting very good at this, possibly better than you,” Louis says as he strains the noodles out. “Feel free to keep cooking for us though, I wouldn’t want to infringe.” He turns and winks at me and I find myself just wanting to hug him. He looks so adorable and tiny in this too large jumper and sweatpants, his hair fluffed up and feathered around his face. He just seems very cuddly, which I know for a fact he is. I am definitely not pining. I remind myself.

Zayn returns home finally and we all sit down to eat. Louis feels the need to keep saying over and over again that he helped. This quickly turns into he didn’t just help, it was mostly him who made it, and on and on until I apparently wasn’t even in the flat. I don’t say anything though, and neither do the other boys. We all just smile and laugh at him, indulging in his fantasies of becoming a food network star.

I catch Niall smiling at me out of the corner of my eye, probably thinking of ways to get Louis and I together. I just roll my eyes at him and listen to Louis talk about touching raw chicken as if he was a superhero facing off with a bad guy. While I clean the dishes later on, I’m more than a little happy to see Louis’ half empty beer bottle left forgotten on the kitchen counter.

 


	8. Chapter 7

My current situation is actually entirely the fault of the surprisingly attractive man snoring next to me. I mean, sure I’m a responsible adult who’s supposed to be able to handle their emotions and their alcohol, but can you really blame me?

I hadn’t had more than a single beer in almost two weeks. Liam kept giving me that look, telling me how I’m doing so well and he’s so proud, and the other boys followed suit. Just that was enough to give me a headache, but throw in Harry and his adorable self and I just really needed last night.

Zayn came with me to the club, he was supposed to drive me home too, except I somehow managed to sneak off and find this very eager, very attractive guy with his very own flat and everything-the fact that he also has curly brown hair is irrelevant-and now here I am. My head is pounding, my eyes are aching, there’s something sticky on my chest that I really don’t want to think about, and very attractive guy is snoring so loudly I’m pretty sure the windows are shaking. Nothing in the morning ever seems as great and magical as it was the night before, I’ve noticed. Especially strawberry flavored lube.

To my credit, I manage to get dressed and all the way out to the front door before Very Attractive Guy wakes up and calls “I had a nice time!” I wince and run out, slamming the door behind me and pulling my shoes on as I go.

Once I’m safely outside and a block or so away, I check my phone and groan when I see the numerous text messages and missed calls. The worst one is the last one from Liam, which simply says: _louis i dont no how to keep doin this_. It kills me.

_Sorry babe, I didn’t check my phone. Promise I wasn’t even drunk I remember ever gory little detail loooove yoouu !!_

He texts back almost immediately, because of course Liam would be awake at 8 in the morning on a Sunday.  _i feel like all i do is worry about u lou. we need to tlak i luv u to_

Feeling even more like a fuck up than I did when I woke up this morning, I pocket my phone and decide I shouldn’t even make a snarky comment about his grammar. I just hail a cab and go home, praying he won’t want to have that “tlak” now.

The walk of shame is something I’ve become mostly immune to, not that I ever really enjoyed it of course, but I’m used to the way the cab driver laughs at my sex hair, the way the old lady next door shakes her head at me when she goes out to walk her dog, the way all the boys will laugh and poke at my love bites for a few days. It’s all made about a thousand times worse however when I remember that Harry is possibly still sleeping, or worse awake, right in the living room. I open the door as quietly as possible and try to tiptoe past, making it almost to the hallway before I’m stopped by Harry’s raspy morning voice.

“Mornin’ Louis. Good night?” I kind of just want to die right here and now.

I turn and send him my best and most convincing smile. “Horrible actually, he didn’t even give me cab fare.”

Harry smiles softly and drops his head back down on the pillow, curls fanning up around his head. “What a fuckin’ twat.”

A real smile finds its way onto my lips because there is nothing cuter that Harry swearing like an angry little kitten. He’s become a lot more outgoing lately, talking more often, treating himself like less of a burden than he used to, even joking around with the rest of us. I like that he’s growing more comfortable with us, but at the same time I almost wish he wouldn’t because the more I see of Harry the more I like, and that’s part of the problem.

I shake my head and walk back over to the couch. “No, he was actually very nice. Had very nice biceps too.” Which is true. I can distinctly remember the man holding the door for me when we got to his flat, even though that ended with him pinching my ass and shoving me up against said door to start snogging, but still.

Harry closes his eyes again, smile not leaving his face. “M’glad. You deserve it.” That one little sentence makes me want to start crying for some reason and telling him I deserve so much worse than this, but I hold it in.

I walk all the way over and lean across the top of the couch, dropping a hand down and brushing it softly over Harry’s hair. He moves up towards my touch and sighs in contentment as I start massaging his scalp. “What are you doing awake, Haz?” If we ever let him, Harry would probably be content to sleep until 6 in the evening and just stay up all night, but he never gets to. I kind of feel bad about it but the selfish part of me likes spending time with him.

He shrugs. “Zayn and Liam went for brunch and woke me up…don’t tell them that though, they were so excited about it. They’re so sweet.”

I smile widely. I’m admittedly very proud of the two of them. Despite being obnoxious and sweet to the point of disgusting, they’re very in love and out of everyone in the world they deserve that the most. When we were kids Liam used to tell me he thought he would never find anyone to love him except me and his family, and I met Zayn right after a nasty breakup that left him cynical and hateful. They seem unlikely to ever get along on paper, but it somehow just works and it works perfectly. So yeah, I’m a little proud, and I also feel the need to remind them constantly that I’m the reason they got together in the first place.

“They are, aren’t they?” I look down at Harry’s sleepy form and sigh. “You deserve sweet Harry.” I don’t know why I say it. Well, actually I do. It’s my twisted way of reminding myself that Harry deserves so much better than me, and making sure Harry knows that. It’s hard to stop my feelings for him though, especially now when he looks up at me with his genuine dimpled smile and bright eyes and thanks me so sincerely.

We both just sit there for a little while, while I watch him squirm around a bit on the couch. He stretches up and I almost gag when I hear his back cracking in multiple places. “Does your back hurt babe?” I ask with a frown.

Harry shakes his head. “No, m’fine.” Which is a complete lie because as soon as he says it he cracks his back again and winces at the pain.

I hum disapprovingly under my breath and shake my head. “It’s probably from sleeping on the couch. I’ll buy you an air mattress, see if that helps any.”

“Louis really-”

“I can’t hear you, lalalala!” I sing-song. I peel myself up from the couch and walk off towards the bathroom. Even though I’m sore, slightly hungover, and very tired, I change into pajamas when I get out of the shower and go back to the living room to hang out with Harry.

He’s sitting up now, swaddled in blankets and watching something on tv that has him frowning in that way he has that makes him look like an old man. When I see it’s Keeping Up With The Kardashians, I start laughing.

“Harry, what are you doing?”

He looks over at me, not even embarrassed about it, and shrugs. “Have you seen this show?” He asks, his voice full of wonder. “This is insane! Look at all their cars, Lou!”

I cover my mouth with my hand to try to keep my laughing to myself. It’s hard of course, because Harry totally feeds into the fake drama of the whole show, seeming very enthralled with the idea of Scott shooting and eating an alligator that comes back to haunt him from the dead or something.

“Are you a cuddler?” I ask, because I can’t keep looking at him all wrapped up like that with his concerned face on and not want to climb in. Instead of an answer, Harry holds his arms out, opening the blanket and motioning for me to come over. I grin and run forward, landing in his lap and snuggling close to him. To my surprise he tucks the blanket back down around us and wraps his arms over my stomach.

I’m laughing while Kim ugly cries about something stupid when I feel Harry’s cold fingertips brush over my back. “Did he hurt you?” He asks out of nowhere.

I look up at him in surprise which is only elevated when I see how seriously pissed off Harry looks. I’ve never seen him angry at all before, and the way he’s biting down hard on his lip and scowling is a bit terrifying. He reaches his hand up and tugs the back of my shirt down slightly, running his fingers over what must be scratches from last night.

“Not intentionally.” I mutter, a bit embarrassed that they’re that noticeable.

“Why?”

I shrug and turn back around because I can’t handle how he’s looking at me right now. “I dunno. I guess he just felt like it.”

Harry makes a noise that I can only describe as furious and before I even register what’s happening, he’s leaning down and kissing one of the scratches softly. It’s nothing really, just barely a brush of his lips before he pulls away, but my brain is practically screaming _nononononowrongwrongworong_ even after he sits back up. Luckily though, Harry doesn’t do it again and goes back to watching tv.

Harry suddenly seems too close now. Every inch of his skin that brushes against mine feels wrong and prickly almost. I need to find an excuse to get out of this before I start to actually freak myself out.

“We should go shopping.” I blurt out.

Harry looks down at me like I’m crazy, one eyebrow raised in a move that sends my brain into freak out mode overdrive. “I don’t get paid until next week.” He reminds me.

I roll my eyes and push off of him, breathing a sigh of relief when I can breathe easily again. “So? You can pay me back if it really bugs you. Besides, you can’t keep wearing Zayn and Liam’s clothes, Nick’s going to start getting jealous and we’ll have one very angry Grimmy pounding at our door like a caveman looking for you.”

Harry flushes bright red. “Nick doesn’t even like me like that.” He says quickly.

I sigh. “Sweetheart,  _everyone_ likes you like that.” Harry only goes redder if possible and I laugh. “Come on, we can even go to your hipster stores if you want. You can get your favorite books painted on your jumpers or something.”

Harry mocks me in an exaggeratedly high voice and disappears into Zayn and Liam’s room. He comes out shaking his curls like an idiot until I toss a beanie at his face and he tugs it on with a wide grin that has me regretting all of my life choices. Harry’s just so fucking cute.

It’s snowing when we walk outside. Harry promptly informs me of this, like I wouldn’t notice, in a childlike yell and starts spinning around on the sidewalk with his arms thrown out wide. He stops, wavering slightly but still smiling. “Louis, we should make snow angels.”

Trying to keep all of the fondness out of my smile is nearly impossible while I watch him gather up snow in his hands and form a ball. “We don’t have a yard, love.” I remind him.

Harry’s smile doesn’t even drop, he just shrugs. “Let’s go to a park then. Please?” His bottom lip sticks out and he clasps his hands behind his back, the snowflakes landing periodically in his curls just adding to his angelic look.

How can I possibly say no to that? Harry practically drags me by my hand to a park I didn’t even know existed near our flat. Apparently he’s slept there before which makes me want to cry as soon as he says it, but Harry doesn’t seem to let it bother him.

He finds a place that isn’t too overpopulated with kids and flops down, waving his arms and legs and creating possibly the largest snow angel I’ve ever seen. Several heads turn and watch as he starts trying to coax me to come down with him.

“How old are you?” I laugh.

Harry just grins and shrugs. “No one is ever too old for snow angels Louis. Please?”

I sigh and lay down gingerly next to him, spreading my arms and legs out wide a few times so our “wings” are touching. We both lay for a bit, staring up at the swirling snowflakes that make me dizzy and homesick.

I’m suddenly sixteen again, taking my little sisters outside on the first real snowfall and having a snowball fight, followed by making a row of snow angels that always ended with the twins trying to see whose was bigger. My mum would always be waiting back in the kitchen with hot chocolate and hugs, always praising me for being such a good big brother. It was a stark contrast to the woman whose last words to me were “Don’t ever even think of coming near my family again”, and it’s also the woman I tend to remember whenever I find myself missing home.

“Louis?” I turn and see Harry looking at me in concern. He stretches across so our fingertips brush and I could almost cry at how comforting that one small gesture is. “Are you alright?”

I nod, choosing to ignore the tears gathering in the corners of my eyes. “Yeah, m’fine Haz. Come on, let’s go get hot chocolate before I freeze to death.” Harry just nods and helps me up out of my angel. I take a picture before we leave of Harry sitting at the heads and grinning up at camera, snow sticking to him everywhere. I set it as my background before he can even stand back up.

When we walk into the warm Starbucks, Harry pulls his beanie off and shakes his curls out, grinning at me afterward. On instinct, I get up to my tip-toes and fix his curls, setting them the way I like best so his fringe sweeps down and his curls are more defined. And Harry lets me, just grinning the whole time and wringing the beanie in his hands.

“Lou, I want peppermint in mine.” Harry whispers in my ear as we step up to first in line.

I laugh and push him away. “You can tell them that Haz, you have a voice.”

Harry flushes bright red and shakes his head. His eyes flicker up towards the cashier and back down to his feet immediately. “Can’t you do it? Please?” He mumbles, kicking his shoes against the ground.

I look over and the see the problem. The barista is cute, not hot or anything like that, but cute in a Harry-in-the-snow sort of way. He’s grinning at Harry now too, freckles standing out on his cheeks while he writes an order onto a cup. He seems exactly like the type of person Harry would be with, which is why I reach over and wrap my arm around Harry’s waist, tugging him close and pretending not to notice Cute Barista Boy.

“’Course babe.” I say a little louder than necessary. Harry knows I call everyone babe, Cute Barista Boy on the other hand does not. His perky little chipmunk faces falls and his great big beaming smile is replaced with a smaller one as I tug Harry up to the counter.

“What’re the names?” He asks once I’ve placed our orders.

“Louis and Hazza for the peppermint.” Just for good measure, I reach over and poke Harry in the stomach so he giggles.

“Lou, stop!” Harry laughs, dragging out his words in that slow way of his and pushing my fingers away.

Cute Barista Boy writes our names on the cups and moves on to the next customer. When we walk away I can see him looking on jealously. I kind of want to stick my tongue out at him but decide that’s childish, so I settle for holding Harry even closer and sending him a small smirk that says Harry is my cute curly haired giggly boy, go get your own. As soon as I realize what I’m doing, I turn back to and pretend to be enthralled with Harry’s speech about snowflakes that sounds like his inner monologue has escaped again.

Once we’re a safe distance away, Harry jostles me and grins. “He was super hot, did you see his eyes?” Harry whispers. “They were so blue!”

“Yeah? Didn’t really notice.” I lie.

Harry glances back over at Cute Barista Boy and sighs dreamily. “Blue eyes are my favorite.”

I try not to let myself think about that.

“Can we go shop now?” I ask, a small smile playing at my lips when I see Harry popping the tops off his hot chocolate so he can eat the whipped cream.

“Now we can,” He laughs. “Thank you, Louis.”

I reach over and swipe a dollop of the whipped cream up to poke his nose with it. “You’re welcome Haz.”

Harry twitches his nose around like a rabbit, before wiping the whipped cream off with his finger and eating it. I stare at him, mouth hanging slightly open as he goes on to eat the rest of the whipped cream like that, sucking it off his finger.

“Where are we going?” His innocent voice jolts me out of my reverie. I grumble out the first name that comes to mind and start walking, discreetly adjusting my jeans and thinking of my grandfather in lingerie as I go because  _fuck_  that was hot.

Harry lopes around beside me all day, smelling like chocolate and peppermint and everything good in the world. I have to reminds myself multiple times tthat Harry is off limits, especially when we walk with my arm around his waist, or when he tries to convince me to wear a tutu he’s found somewhere, and especially when he happens to look fucking amazing in every piece of clothing he tries on. He’s currently in a long black peacoat that I picked out purely because I like the torture myself, and he looks fantastic.

“Lou, this is too much.” He mutters uncomfortably.

I reach up to adjust the coat a bit on his skinny body to see how it fits. “You’re gonna get cold babe. Believe it or not snow isn’t just for playing in, it’s also for freezing and dying in.” I leave the part out where I tell him I’ll never, ever let him be cold again.

“It’s expensive.”

“Mm, not really. It’s less than what I payed for mine.” I comment casually, which is actually true but Harry doesn’t seem at all comforted.

Harry looks down at the coat and sighs, shoving his hands into the pockets and moving them around a bit. “I wish you wouldn’t. I already owe you so much.”

“I was joking when I said you had to pay me back, Hazza.” I say carefully, just in case he isn’t getting it. I glance down at the shopping bags at his feet. It really wasn’t a lot of money, it was actually the part of my salary I save for drinking and cover charges, so really Harry should be excited about this.

Harry shakes his head. “No, I mean for everything.” His eyes glance up to mine and he bites his lip. I can practically see his brain moving, adding up the charges of sleeping on our couch, eating our food, wearing our clothes. I don’t want that.

“All you owe me are a couple of great big dimply smiles and a few ‘Thanks Louis!’s, and that’s it. Can you do that?”

He looks pensive for a moment, but eventually nods. “Thanks Lou.”

I reach over and squeeze his hip, before walking towards the scarves. “See? That payed for the coat, now take it off before the sales lady starts drooling.”

I buy the coat because it looks absolutely sinful on him, along with a few scarves and beanies, and then decide we’re done for the day. Harry is now the proud owner of numerous pairs of so-tight-they’re-practically-painted-on skinny jeans, jumpers and shirts in all colors and designs, and a pair of boots to replace his ripped up trainers. I also went and bought an air mattress, which is why I’m currently trying to get us a cab, because it’s heavy but there’s no way Harry is carrying it. I’m the adult here I can handle it…I think.

“Do you feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman yet?” I ask, waving my hand around like an idiot and swearing when yet another cab drives past us.

“Never seen it.”

I drop my hand and look at him with wide eyes. “Are you kidding?” He shakes his head and I sigh. “Well, that’s what we’re doing tonight.”

And that is what we end up doing tonight. I help Harry blow up the air mattress and he lays in the middle of it spread eagle, telling me something about chorus lessons and diaphragms before belting out a few notes of a Lady Gaga song and smiling up at me proudly.

“That’s all I ever learned really.”

“What good is learning how to sing laying down?” I laugh, kicking his foot. Harry shrugs and watches upside down as I look for Pretty Woman. I find it and pop it in, calling quickly for take out and joining Harry on the air mattress. Liam and Zayn are out for dinner and Niall’s still at work, so it’s just the two of us for awhile which is nice, if only Harry would stop being so cute.

“Thank you for the mattress Louis.” He says to me when I drape the blankets over our shoulders.

I shrug. “Not a big deal babe, this is usually the type of thing you stick unwanted in-laws on.”

Harry grins at me and rests his head down on a pillow. “M’not your in-law.”

“And you aren’t unwanted, you’re two for two Haz!” I poke his dimple and press play on the movie, curling up close to him as it begins.

Harry watches the movie with wide eyes, even when he’s eating lo mein he doesn’t look away. “Louis, it’s so romantic.” He whispers to me finally. Harry just seems like the romantic type, the type to bring flowers on a first date and celebrate your six week anniversary or something.

I smile. “Do you like it?”

Harry nods, and then laughs. “So unrealistic though. No one is ever actually that nice to prostitutes.”

I throw my head back and laugh. “And you would know that because you’ve hired so many, right Haz?” I joke. His face falls a bit and even when he tries to joke back, his lips are still turned down slightly. I stop him, feeling cold paralyzing fear squeezing my heart. “Harry…you didn’t…I mean you weren’t-”

“No,” Harry says simply. “I came pretty close to it a few times especially when I was really hungry and the pain was just too much, but the men were never nice about it. Especially when I said no.”

“Harry.” I can’t think of anything else to say, my mouth feels dry and there’s this anger rising in my chest that I have no outlet for. All I can see is Harry, little Harry in some disgusting motel room with an even more disgusting guy taking advantage of him, crushing Harry under his boot like some wilted flower and throwing money at him for it.

Harry cringes at my tone, not knowing it isn’t directed at him. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said anything, you probably think I’m gross now but…Louis it’s money. You don’t understand how tempting that is when you know all you would have to do is…lay there for a bit and you could eat or maybe find a place to stay or…” Harry trails off, looking down at his fingers, and shrugging guiltily.

“Harry, babe? Come here.” I whisper. He looks over at me, and I feel my heart breaking when I see the tears in his eyes. He scoots over until I can hug him, dragging him close to my chest and holding him there tightly. “I don’t think you’re gross Harry, never. You were trying to survive babe, I could never blame you if you did, you shouldn’t feel guilty for thinking it. But…I am glad you didn’t. I wouldn’t want anyone to hurt you like that Harry.”

Harry just nods and rests his head on me for a bit, closing his eyes and sighing. “Louis can I tell you something?” He whispers against my collar bone. “And you have to promise you won’t like…laugh or anything or make fun of me or tell the other boys.”

“I would never.”

Harry nods and I can feel his eyes squeezing shut tightly, his eyelashes brushing my skin. “I’ve never had sex with a guy before.”

I kind of just want to get up and walk away at this point, really. Because this cannot be happening. Harry cannot be adorable, attractive, loving, and a fucking virgin, sitting in my lap and crying as he tells me about all the horrible things the world has done to him. All I really want to do right now is hold him even tighter and warn him, warn him about men who’ll take one look at his innocent eyes, and lie. Men who will just want to absolutely ruin him, then ruin his idea of what sex should be for possibly the rest of his life, and twist him into a person no one even recognizes anymore. I don’t say that though, just a more condensed version.

“You’re only 17 Harry, it isn’t a bad thing, I wish I would have waited longer than I did. The guy wasn’t very nice about it, turned out he didn’t mean anything he said about loving me and all that, and I was just some stupid 15 year old for him to fuck around with. So just…don’t worry okay? Because you’re going to find someone so amazing who’ll take care of you and make it magical, and there’ll be candles, and rose petals, and chocolate, and fireworks spelling out your name in the sky, and he’ll burn up a goddamn sun just to say goodnight, or some shit okay? And he’ll hold you all night while you sleep and he’ll make you breakfast in bed the next morning before you even wake up like a good boyfriend should.”

Harry giggles, and finally looks back up at me with watery green eyes. The pain is still there, pain of probably remembering hands that were too rough, or voices that were too deep and too close, but at least he’s laughing again. I wipe the tears under his eyes and smile back, letting my thumbs brush down his cheeks. “How can you be so sure?” He asks.

“Because.” I say. And that’s my answer. Not,  _because I would do that and so much more if it were me and you_. Not,  _because that’s what you deserve Harry, why can’t you see that?_  Just, because.

“You’re a heart breaker, Louis Tomlinson.” Harry mutters under his breath. I’m not sure I was even meant to hear it because he doesn’t elaborate or even blush as he pulls away again. He just goes back to the movie, leaning closer to me as it keeps playing and twirling noodles onto his fork every so often to eat.

The movie is ending now and Harry is watching on mesmerized, obviously excited about the happy ending. He just looks so cute and playful I can’t help myself, even though I promised. “Question though.”

Harry turns back around, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah Lou?”

“How does someone who looks like you manage to stay a virgin for so long?” I ask.

Harry blushes. “M’not a virgin I’m just…there aren’t a lot of gay guys where I’m from okay? I got stuck with a lot of girls and I just-shutup Louis, god.” But I don’t shutup I just keep laughing and teasing him which makes Harry hit me over the head with a pillow, which leads to an all out pillow fight. This then leads to a very sleepy and giggling Harry waving the white flag-which happens to be a pillow case-and falling asleep with his head in my lap. I let him stay there, flipping through channels on the tv and watching him sleep until the other three boys return home with grins like a group of Cheshire cats.

I takes one look at them and shake my head, returning my attention back to where I’m running my fingers through Harry’s curls. I definitely do not blush when I tell them all to fuck off.

 


	9. Chapter 8

Niall, Zayn, and I are all sat awkwardly on the couch, pretending to be watching whatever action movie Niall has on and pretending we can’t hear the muffled shouting coming from Zayn and Liam’s room. All day Liam and Louis had been sending each other these worried and furious glances, and finally after dinner they disappeared into the bedroom. They’ve been in there almost a whole hour now, just yelling at each other. I’ve resolved to tuck myself into the corner of the couch with my knees pulled up to my chest, trying to ignore the anxious whirling in my stomach.

 _They aren’t angry with you, it has nothing to do with you,_ I remind myself. _They love each other and no one’s going to get hurt._

Still, that doesn’t stop me from quietly asking the other two how long they usually go at it for.

Niall shrugs. I wish I could be as casual as he is, leaning back against the couch and watching the movie like it’s nothing. “Usually until Louis apologizes and promises to never do it again and Liam breaks down and starts crying.”

Zayn looks over at me out of the corner of his eye and must notice I’m shaking because he’s tone is soft and soothing. “S’alright Haz,” he says, reaching a hand over to rub between my shoulder blades. “They’re really not even that angry, they’re like brothers it’s just what they do.”

I nod. “I just don’t like yelling.” I mutter under my breath, almost positive no one can hear it.

Zayn obviously hears it though, because he moves closer to me on the couch cushion and wraps his arm all the way around my shoulder. “Yeah? Me neither. My parents used to fight for hours like that back home when I was a kid. Kinda ruins it for you, doesn’t it?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, just squeezes me tighter and throws his legs up onto the coffee table. I smile and tilt so I can lean my head on his chest. Zayn has to be the calmest of all of them, which isn’t really saying much considering how insane the others are, but still. 

“Don’t you dare, Liam!” Louis’ scream is so loud it makes the three of us all jump in surprise and Zayn’s grip on me tightens. “Don’t you dare bring that up, you have absolutely no right!”

“No right?” Liam shouts back, just as loud so we can hear every word now. “What the fuck do you mean no right? Who’s taken care of you all these years Louis? When everyone else left you, who was there? Me. The entire fucking time it was me, and it’s still me, so don’t sit there and tell me what I’m allowed to talk about!”

Louis’ reply comes thick with tears and shrill. “You don’t know anything! You think you understand but you cannot even begin to understand.”

“Then explain it to me!” Liam roars and Zayn stands up as if on instinct. “Fucking explain it to me, Louis!”

“That’s enough.” Zayn mutters under his breath. He starts to walk towards the bedroom but the door swings open before he can get there. Louis emerges, eyes wet with tears and breathing heavily. He takes one look at all of us, and laughs.

“Enjoy the show? Fuck off, all of you.” Louis shakes his head and walks out, stopping only to rip his coat off the hook, and slamming the front door behind him.

“I’ll get him.” I say automatically. Zayn and Niall both give me strange looks while I stand up and go to pull my shoes on. From the bedroom I can hear Liam crying, calling for his boyfriend.

“Go take care of Liam. I’ve got him.”

They hesitate, but don’t protest when I slip into the coat Louis bought for me yesterday and walk out. He isn’t in the building still but luckily I can see his retreating figure off down the street. I run up to him, not surprised when I hear him still sniffling.

“Lou?”

Louis laughs and whirls around to face me. “Great. You. They couldn’t send Niall, or Zayn, or even fucking Liam. They send you.”

I come to a complete stop a few feet in front of him, feeling my heart sink at his words. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay, that’s all.” I murmur under my breath. I kind of what to turn back around and leave now, let him wallow in whatever this is so I can go back to the flat and pretend his words didn’t hurt me as much as they did.

Louis’ breath forms little clouds in front of his face, puffing out faster and faster until tugs a hand through his hair roughly. “I’m never okay, Harry. You know? I mean, I smile and shit but I am just….I’m not fucking okay. And I’d love to sit here and say no one gives a shit and no one gets it, but that’s my fault too because I won’t tell anyone what’s wrong.”

“You can tell me.”

Louis laughs and shakes his head. “Out of all of them, you’re the one I’d never want to tell.”

It’s like blow after blow at this point, like Louis is trying-and succeeding-to find the most hurtful things he could possibly say to me. But of course this one makes sense, because what am I to Louis? Nothing. I’m not a close friend like the boys who’ve always been there for him, I’m just Harry. I’m just some stupid little kid with a crush that he likes to watch movies with, and watch cook, and-

“I’m ashamed of myself. That’s why.” Louis says, interrupting my self deprecating thoughts. I give him a confused look and he just sighs. “I could tell the others and not you Harry, because it’s…it’s too much. It’s took fucking much. Liam thinks he wants to know all the reasons why I drink, but it would absolutely kill him. It would kill you even more, Haz, and I wouldn’t want to do that to you.”

I want to breathe out a sigh of relief but I keep it in somehow. “Louis, come back to the flat, please.”

He shakes his head. “No. But you can come with me if you want. In fact, you probably should. I’m going to get proper fucked up tonight, Harry.” With this, he turns and starts walking again. Biting my lip, I look from him, to the flat, and back again before I decide that I have to follow him.

Louis doesn’t say anything when I walk up to his side, just nods his head and continues to walk with a determined stride.

To my dismay we end up in a pub. Louis orders a round of pints for himself and I, but drinks mine while I follow him to a stool. He sits there for a little while quietly, running his finger over the condensation of the glass and sighing. I’m content to just watch him; watch his vibrant blue eyes flicker around the pub listlessly, watch the adam’s apple in his throat bob as he drinks glass after glass, watch the way his hair seems to deflate and fall down around his face to brush the edges of his sharp cheekbones.

“Do you ever miss you family?” Louis asks out of nowhere.

I think about it for a moment, and nod. “Some of them, yes. Why?”

Louis nods back and finishes his sixth beer, motioning to the bartender for more, not even appearing drunk. “I miss my little sisters more than anything in the fucking world, Harry. I think I’d do anything to get them back.”

I bite my lip and let my chin rest in my hand. “Won’t you see them for Christmas?” I ask.

Louis throws his head back and laughs, his first real sign of drunkenness all evening. He reaches over and tugs a piece of my hair straight. “You’re so cute Harry, you know that? Promise me you’ll be careful.”

I frown, my eyebrows knitting together in confusion. I have no idea what he’s talking about. Drinking? My family? “I uhm…careful?”

“Mhm.” Louis smiles, and it’s obvious that in his drunken mind this all makes sense. So I just nod my head.

“Yeah I’ll be careful.”

Louis finishes up the last of the beer and orders shots that the bartender reluctantly obliges to. “Don’t suppose you’d want some?” Louis asks with a grin. I don’t even get the chance to say no because he’s already knocking the shots back one by one. He finishes by wiping his mouth and saying. “Wanna know the worst part? Doesn’t even burn anymore. I think I’m immune.”

When Louis asks for more the bartender seems to finally get he has no intentions of stopping. “You’ve got him?” He asks me, looking at Louis wearily.

Louis grins this devilish grin and chuckles. “Yeah, Harry’s got me. Very much so.” The bartender raises an eyebrow at me. I nod and he sighs and walks away, leaving three more shots and a large glass of water in front of Louis.

A few minutes later Louis starts nursing the water slowly, watching me out of the corner of his eye. “Hey Harry,” he says finally. “Hey. Harry, hey I like you a lot.”

“I like you too, Lou.”

Louis giggles, outright drunken giggles, and shakes his head. “Not like I like you.” He says in a sing-song tone.

I roll my eyes and look around the mostly empty pub. “That’s probably not true.” I mutter.

Louis watches me some more, before sighing loudly, and declaring just as loudly: “God, you’re so pretty Haz. I want to kiss you a lot, a lot of the time on your face, a lot. Especially now in your coat, look at you.”

My face pales and I have to swallow past the lump in my throat. “Then why don’t you?” I don’t mean to say it but it’s already out and hanging in the air between us.

Louis frowns and looks down at his water, seeming like he’s thinking it over. He then looks back up at me, blue eyes bright and excited. “M’not drunk enough yet.”

I sort of want to cry. Of course Louis would have to be drunk to ever want to kiss me, what was I thinking. “Alright.” Is all I can say. Unable to look at him anymore, I turn and stare out the tinted windows of the pub where snow is falling again. I think back to the day before when I got Louis to go out and make snow angels in the park with me. I think about how he looked with snowflakes on the very tips of his eyelashes and in his fringe, how he grinned at me all soft and warm with his little hands wrapped around a hot chocolate, and how all I wanted to do was kiss his chapped lips until I couldn’t anymore because he just seemed so happy and I felt like maybe Niall was right, and maybe we could have something if we tried hard enough.

_I’m such a fucking idiot._

“Harry. Harry, wanna know-wanna hear a funny story?” Louis practically yells. I turn around and see he has another drink, just another pint this time but still. He waits until I raise my eyebrows, before continuing on with his funny story. “The first time I ever got drunk I was 13.” He whispers conspiratorially.

The grin he gives me is blissfully happy, but I can see the pain hiding behind it. “That’s really young, Louis.” I say carefully.

He nods, his grin not leaving. “Yeah it is, huh? And guess what Harry? That’s not even the best part because the best part is that right before that was my first kiss.”

“That’s-”

“Yeah, I know. He wasn’t a great kisser, and he punched me right after but then kissed me again so I don’t know how that works. But anyway.” Louis doesn’t finish that thought, he looks down at his pint with his lips pursed, looking confused. I reach over and rub his back softly.

“Lou-”

“When I was 15 I slept with my teacher.” He cuts me off again.

I pull my hand back a bit, looking at him with wide eyes. Louis grins at me, all giggly and happy like he hadn’t just admitted that. “Louis-”

“That’s the guy I told you about yesterday, ’member? The one who took my virginity, that’s him.” Louis says it quieter so no one else hears. His eyes turn dark and he looks so young suddenly. I go to wrap my arms around him but he pulls away.

“His name was Mr. Killian and he was 32 and he taught History. He told me he loved me, and he told me I was beautiful, and he told me to tell my mom I was going to Liam’s house, and he told me to drink some wine with him, and he told me to be quiet, and he told me to stop crying, and he told me not to tell anyone. And he never told me he loved me again after that.”

He goes back to his pint and downs it all in one large gulp, setting it down softly on the bar. I watch him, stuck in a state of absolute disbelief. I don’t know what do, I don’t know what to say, I don’t know how to stop the tears that are welling up in my eyes because  _Louis_.

“I told Liam,” He says, finally. “I told Liam because Mr. Killian didn’t say he loved me when no one was around anymore like he used to and I thought maybe it was something I did wrong. So I ran it by Liam and he told me that it was wrong and it was abuse or something, and I got mad and told Liam he was an idiot because I loved him and he loved me and I wanted it. And so then I tried to ask Mr. Killian about it again and he said….”

“Louis, you don’t have to keep going,” I whisper. “It’s alright, okay?”

Louis doesn’t listen to me. He looks over at me, smiling again but there are tears in his eyes now as well. “He said ‘Who would ever even  _want_  to rape an ugly little fairy like you, Louis?’ and then said it never happened, said it was something I made up in my mind or dreamt up because I was infatuated with him. And he moved away a few months later to teach in America or some shit.”

I’m caught between feeling like I’m going to be sick and wanting to hold Louis close to me and cry. How could someone do that to him? I open my mouth to tell him we need to go home, when he turns back to me with a triumphant look on his face.

“The worst part is that Liam thinks that’s why I drink, and it isn’t. Because I did something even worse than fuck my teacher, Haz. And I’m still doing it.”

I reach for his hand and squeeze it, intertwining our fingers. “Louis, I’m so sorry. He had no fucking right to do that to you, even if you agreed, you were drunk and you were a kid. It wasn’t your fault, Lou and he’s a sick piece of shit. I’m so, so sorry.” I can’t hold the tears in anymore and they spill over, along with an embarrassing hiccup.

Louis looks over at me and gasps. “Oh, Hazza don’t cry! Look how pretty your eyes are, stop it right now. Don’t cry about me, love. I’m okay now, it’s okay now.”

“That’s not okay, Louis.” I whisper.

Louis shakes his head and hops off the stool, and it’s ass backwards but now he’s the one comforting me, telling me it’s alright, telling me he’s okay. But he isn’t okay, I can see it in his eyes that he isn’t okay. The fact that there’s more besides this, that there’s even more that happened to him to make him this way, only makes me cry harder.

“Hey Harry?” Louis whispers in my ear. I pull back a bit and he smiles at me, reaching over to tousle my curls. “M’drunk enough now.” That’s all the warning I get before Louis surges forward and kisses me. There are no redeeming qualities to it; it isn’t kind, or warm, or soft, or comforting, or anything at all like that. It’s sloppy, and drunk, and disgusting and Louis is laughing like an idiot when he pulls back.

“S’never gonna happen when I’m sober,” he says, poking the end of my nose. “You have very nice lips.”

I start crying all over again but I don’t know if I’m crying because of the kiss or because of what he just told me. I’m just crying about Louis in general I suppose, because he’s heart breaking. Even when he doesn’t mean to and even though he probably doesn’t notice, Louis Tomlinson is breaking my heart piece by piece.

“Louis, can I see your phone?”

Louis frowns. “What?” he laughs. “No ‘thanks Lou’ or-”

“Louis give me your phone.” I snap. He grumbles a bit but manages to pull his phone out of his pocket and tosses it towards me. I pause for a moment when I see our snow angels and I are his background, and the tears that are threatening to slip out become even more justified. I type in the first number that comes to mind and find it’s already in his phone under Fucking Twat. I have to hand it to Louis, he has a colorful vocabulary.

“Is this Louis?” Nick mumbles into the phone when he answers. “What the fuck?”

“Grimmy, it’s Harry.”

On the other line I can hear hushed whispering and moving around. “Hey babe, what’s wrong? You sound upset.”

I glance over at Louis who’s blowing bubbles into another glass of water and close my eyes. “I was uhm…I was wondering if I could maybe stay at your place tonight?”

“What happened Haz?” Nick chuckles. “Something with you and Tommo? Trouble in paradise?”

“He just…Louis kissed me and he said some really mean things and I just can’t be around him right now. Nick, please.” I know there’s no way I’ll be able to wake up tomorrow and look Louis in the eye without either sobbing, or being pissed off that he’s doing this to me. Besides that, the last thing I want is for Louis to think I’m angry about what he told me about his teacher, or to regret telling me at all and having to watch me stumble through pretending like he never said anything, so he’ll be better off not seeing me at all either.

Nick seems to get it at this point that I’m serious. I can hear the whispering in the background again, and then he’s back. “Alright babe, gimme like twenty minutes. Where are you at?”

“I’m gonna drop Lou off home, I’ll be there.” I give Nick the address of the flat and hang up.

“What did you do, tell on me?” Louis giggles. I shake my head and text Liam to tell him I’m bringing Louis home, and slip the phone back into his pocket.

I stand up and reach for his hand. “Come on, we’re leaving.” Louis sighs and reaches into his back pocket, throwing a few notes down on the bar and shouting his goodbyes as he stumbles away. I pull him out of the pub by his hand, making sure he doesn’t trip or fall on the way to the street.

“Hazza, it’s cold, you should hold me.” Louis giggles while I hail a cab. He turns and sticks his bottom lip out like a child. “Pretty please?”

I just shake my head and help him into the cab. He’s mostly quiet during the ride, resting his head against the cold window and texting someone, god only knows who at this point. When we pull up to his building I help him to the door but stop there.

“Harry, come on!” Louis says, pointing towards the hall. “S’cold.”

I shake my head. “I’m going to stay at Nicks tonight, alright? Why don’t you go inside and get some rest.”

Louis’ jaw actually drops. He stares at me with a look of pure hurt that makes me want to jump off a cliff.. He promptly closes his mouth, but now his bottom lip is quivering as well. “You…Harry. Harry Styles. Harry, do you hate me?”

I sigh and shake my head, because the fact that I don’t hate Louis is the whole problem really. “No Louis, I promise I don’t hate you. Just go home, alright? I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Louis stands around for a little while, trying gauge how serious I am. Finally he nods and goes, walking slowly into the building and towards the stairs, looking back at me a few times with a look like a dejected puppy. I let out a sigh that turns into a sob, and walk back out the curb to wait for Nick.

He pulls up only a few minutes later in the passenger seat of a car driven by a man I’ve never seen before. “I’m here to save you-Harry what is it? What happened?” Nick opens the door of the car and jumps out, pulling me into his long arms and letting me cry against his shoulder.

“It’s Louis he..he just…”

Nick nods and kisses the top of my head. “S’alright Haz. He’s a bit of a dick.”

I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut because Louis isn’t a dick. Louis is an angel and he didn’t deserve any of this. “He isn’t, he really isn’t. I just really liked him, is all.”

Nick sighs sadly and opens the door for me. I crawl into the backseat and give the man driving a quivering smile that he returns wholeheartedly. Nick links their hands together and motions for the man to start driving.

When we were younger Nick’s uncle died and he got left this huge trust fund that included a massive sprawling flat in London. He always used to tease me about when we were kids, telling me one day it was going to be like the Playboy Bunny mansion only he’d be Hugh Hefner and it’d be all guys and I’d be his main bunny. I’m not disappointed to see he let go of that dream and had the decency to furnish it well, not a single bunny ear in sight.

“M’going back to bed. It was nice to meet you Harry.” The man says, leaning down to kiss Nick quickly.

“Thanks for the ride, it was nice to meet you too…”

He smiles. “It’s Matt.”

I nod. “Matt. Thanks.”

Nick pulls Matt back and him again, waving as he disappears back into one of the bedrooms. Nick sighs and falls dramatically over the couch. “I might be in love with this one Haz, swear to god.”

I roll my eyes and push his legs out of the way so I can sit on the couch as well. Nick pulls himself up and seems to remember that I’ve been crying almost this entire time. “So, what did Louis do?”

I shrug. “He just…he told me he’d have to be drunk to kiss me. And then he kissed me, and told me it’s never going to happen sober and I just…I don’t know. I feel like so fucking stupid for thinking he could ever actually like me.” I choose to leave the part out where I feel like Louis might have accidentally told me about his teacher, how I think had he been sober he would have realized he doesn’t trust me like that and stopped himself.

Nick shakes his head and hugs me, resting his head on my shoulder. “Harry, honestly anyone would have to completely out of their fucking minds to not like you.”

I shrug. “Name one person besides you who has ever liked me Grimmy. Like honestly liked me as a person.”

“Gemma.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. “Stop, please. Not tonight Nick, I can’t.”

He sighs and kisses me on the cheek, smoothing a hand over my curls “I know, I’m sorry it’s just the first thing to come to mind and I forgot, I’m sorry.” I nod and wrap my arms around his waist. He hushes me softly and rocks us side to side slowly. “It’s alright Harry, you don’t need him you know. I’m not just saying that because I don’t like him, you honestly don’t need him.”

I nod and sniffle. “I know. But I want him.”

Nick sighs and starts playing with my curls a bit which is even more soothing than the rocking and the kissing. “I know babe.” We sit there for a little while longer until I tell Nick I’m tired and remind him about work, and he takes me to a guest room. He finds me something of his to wear as pajamas and is about to leave when I call after him.

“Hey Nick, where did you meet that Matt guy?”

“He was a stripper at a birthday party I went to a few weeks back.” Nick shoots me a look when I start to laugh. “Not my finest moment Curly. Besides, he has a heart of gold and all that, so shut your fat mouth. Mention it again and you’re sleeping on the couch.”

I just shake my head and flip him off. “Goodnight Grimmy.”

“Night Haz.”


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's late and it sucks oooooooh well ;) enjoy
> 
> tumblr: amoryfics.tumblr.com

To say Niall is angry with me would be a dramatic understatement. He is pissed, borderline homicidal actually. When I wake up I find he’s already awake, sitting on the edge of my bed with his arms crossed, glaring at me and looking like something out of a horror film.

“Shit,” I breathe, putting a hand over my racing heart. “Niall what are you doing, are you insane?”

Niall’s frown just deepens and his eyes narrow in on me. “Where’s Harry, Louis? Huh? Because he isn’t here.”

I rub at my eyes and cringe when the memories of the night before all come flooding back, especially Harry leaving with Nick after I was so horrible to him. “I know, alright? I fucked up.”

“You’re damn right you fucked up, now fix it,” Niall demands petulantly. “Go get him!”

I raise my eyebrows and sigh. “Niall, he went with Nick. If he wants to stay with Grimshaw that’s fine, there isn’t anything I can really do about that.”

“Yes there is, you can go and tell him you’re sorry, and tell him this is his home. Go get him and bring him home, Louis.” Niall doesn’t stay to argue about it. He tosses one of my pillows at my face as hard as he can, and walks away, leaving me to wallow in my bad decisions and cuddle with the pillows for a little while longer.

Liam and Zayn aren’t too pleased with me either, which leads to the quietest and awkwardest breakfast we’ve had since before Harry first arrived. Zayn is the first to break the silence, preempting it by flicking a soggy red fruit loop at my face with startling accuracy, smacking me right on the nose.

“What’d you do?”

“Why does it have to be something  _I_ did?” I mutter, flicking the cereal off my face and fake retching. “What if he just likes Nick better and wants to live with him instead?”

All three boys stop eating and stare at me. I guess that’s my answer.

“I kissed him.”

There’s a simultaneous deep breath taken by everyone in the room and I’m beginning to think they’ve planned this all out in advance. “And he didn’t want it or…” Zayn trails off.

I shrug and look back down to my cereal, pushing the strange mixture of bottom of the bag frosted flakes and fruit loops around so I don’t have to meet their eyes. “Nope, of course he didn’t. Because it’s me, and I was completely wasted and disgusting. He called Nick right after and I guess went home with him.”

Niall groans and leans his head back. “This is so going to fuck up my plan.” He complains to the ceiling. I don’t even bother asking what his “plan” is, knowing it’ll probably just piss me off. Instead, I dump my uneaten cereal out and decide to go to work early like a good intern should.

“I’ll go apologize on my lunch break, I promise.” I say especially towards Niall, who will provably have my head on a stick if Harry doesn’t come back tonight.

Liam frowns at me but I’m leaving the room before he can start off on a conversation I don’t want to have. I drop a quick kiss to his cheek and muss up his hair, before leaving. “Don’t wait up tonight!” I call back.

“Louis-”

“Just don’t.” I shoot them all a very wide smile and slam the door shut behind me. The woman next door bangs on her wall at us and I roll my eyes, refraining from telling her to go fuck off.

I’m anxious all morning. I manage to somehow stumble my way through the reading for the day though, which I count as a win considering the fact that the fluorescent lights have turned my migraine into absolute torture. A girl in the front row of my third period class shoots me a small smile when I stutter yet again.

“Are you alright Mr. Tomlinson?” She asks quietly.

“He’s hungover.” Another whispers, and then I hear chuckles all around.

I turn and see Mrs. Baker is gone, probably making copies, and turn back with a wide smile. “Take some advice from me children, don’t drink anything stronger than beer on a week night,” My smile only widens when they all start laughing. “And don’t ever tell your students that if you end up getting an internship in uni.”

“We won’t.” A boy in the back calls.

“Well you can thank me for your long, successful career then,” I tease. “Anyway, back to the wonders of Tennyson.”

The kids put me in a better mood. Even if they are only slightly younger than Harry-which I reallydon’t want to dwell on, thank you-they still make me feel like I’m in charge and I’ve chosen what I want to do correctly. I love making people laugh, and if I can make people laugh and help them, then that’s just perfect for me.

Lunch rolls around far too quickly and I find myself sprinting from school to the tube and from there to campus, all the while praying I can catch Harry before he leaves for lunch. I burst into the studio out of breath, only to find Nick Grimshaw at the desk. He has his long legs thrown up and over it by the computer and he’s singing along in a tone deaf manner to the music playing. He takes one look at me, and rolls his eyes.

“I spent most of last night comforting Harry while he cried, fuck face.”

I cringe at that thought and grab onto the door handle tighter. “Where is he?”

Nick sighs and spins the chair a bit, putting his legs back down on the ground and scooting up closer to me. “Just went to pick up lunch, he’ll be back in a few minutes. Stay for awhile, I need to talk to you.”

“I don’t really want to talk to you.”

Nick rolls his eyes again and mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like  _twat_. “Then you can listen, okay?” He doesn’t even give me time to protest or make a run for it. “Harry’s been through a lot of shit, alright? He never deserved any of it and it all left him a little fuck up, but he seems to be getting better. I don’t know if that’s because of you, because of the other boys-I don’t care. What I’m saying is that last night wasn’t new Harry, that was old Harry from back home and I swear to you Louis, if you ever do that to him again I will rip your tongue out and your kissing days will be over. Got that?”

I stare at him a moment, shocked, because I don’t think I’ve ever heard Nick this serious before. Maybe once or twice when he gets drunk and prattles on about his hipster “I understand politics and history aren’t I smart and deep” crap.

“What happened to him?” I ask softly. “To Harry?”

Nick just shakes his head and throws his legs back up on the desk. “It isn’t my story to tell, unfortunately. Besides, I don’t think he’s even told me most of it. It’s his life and I get the feeling you aren’t exactly telling him the whole truth either, Louis Tomlinson.” He laughs at my surprised face and starts to sing along again to the music.

“Grimmy, I think they messed up Perrie’s order-oh,” Harry stops in his tracks when he sees me standing in the doorway. He takes a step back which kills me, but I say nothing. “Hey Louis.”

“Well, that’s my cue!” Nick announces. He jumps out of the chair, kisses Harry on cheek, and leaves the two of us alone in the studio, but not before making a gesture that I can only assume implies death to me if I fuck this up again.

I shift from foot to foot nervously while Harry sets the bags of food down on the desk. Jealousy courses through me when he takes his coat off and I see he’s wearing a jumper that must belong to Nick. It’s too big, hanging off his small frame and making him look tiny and cuddly, showing off his delicate alabaster skin and collarbones. He finally looks up at me, green eyes wide and searching, and I get the feeling he’s waiting for me to say something. So I do.

“I’m sorry Harry. When I get drunk I just kind of…lose control. I never meant to make you uncomfortable.”

Harry bites at his lip a bit, obviously thinking it over. “I get it,” he says, finally. “I know you don’t really like me like that. I don’t like you like that either, so that’s why I left; I didn’t want to make it awkward for you this morning.”

My heart sinks and I breathe in sharply. Harry left because he though the kiss was just a drunken mistake, which granted, it was, but still. He thinks I don’t like him. Worse than that, he doesn’t like me back. I should probably be happy about it, since I can now stop wondering if we could ever have ended up together in another world, but I’m not happy because it hurts. I just keep hearing it over and over again, his innocent little comment that manages to break me down completely.

“Yeah,” I breathe out. “Yeah, thanks.”

Harry just nods and shifts his glance back down to his shoes. “So-”

“Please come back home,” I blurt out. Even if my heart is broken, I can’t lose Harry completely. Being just friends would still be better than nothing, even if it would hurt. “I know Nick has that huge flat and probably a big comfy bed and all we have is that dinky little air mattress but…it’s your home now too, Haz. We all missed you this morning, Niall looked like he was about to shoot something. Please come home.”

Surprise passes over Harry’s face and I wonder what he thought I was going to say. He opens his mouth and shuts it a few times, before breaking out into a huge dimpled grin that makes my heart hurt. “Yeah. Yeah, okay I’ll come home Lou.”

I nod and fling myself at Harry, unable to stop myself. He catches me around the torso and I sigh into his neck, squeezing my eyes shut to hold back tears. “I’m so sorry.” I whisper.

“I’m sorry too,” Harry murmurs in my ear. “I didn’t want you to think I was angry or like…like I was judging you for what you told me. About your teacher.”

It doesn’t make sense for a second, until it does and I feel like I’ve been doused with cold water. My eyes widen impossibly large but Harry doesn’t see because he’s just squeezing me into a tighter hug. “I…my teacher? I told you about-oh.” I don’t remember that at all, but Harry does obviously, and I want to die. How could I have told him that? No one else but Liam knows, not even Zayn or Niall. No one.

“It’s alright.” I say, more to myself than to him.

“It isn’t,” Harry pulls away and frowns at me, brushing his hands down my arms. “See, you kept saying that last night, but it’s not alright Lou. I’m sorry he did that to you. He’s absolutely out of his fucking mind.”

I wince and shake my head. It still feels weird hearing people talk about Mr. Killian that way. Liam always used to tell me things like that when I was feeling sad about it, assuring me that he was sick and wrong, but I can’t think like that. All I can think about is how the first person I loved used me for sex and nothing else, and I was the one who begged him to do it.

“Yeah well, you know, what did I expect right? I was just some dumb kid and it was forever ago Haz, don’t even worry about it.” I force out a laugh but Harry is obviously not amused.

He frowns, his eyebrows pulling together. I take a step back and another when he takes one forward to try to reach for me again. “Louis, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah, well I asked him to have sex with me so yeah, it kind of is.”

“You were a child,” Harry whispers, seemingly mesmerized by what I’m saying. “You were fifteen Louis, and he was horrible to you! Lou-”

Unable to stop myself, I interrupt him. “I really don’t want to talk about this,” I snap. Harry recoils as if I’ve slapped him but I can’t stop now that I’ve started. “Please don’t mention it again, okay? Not to me, and especially not to the other boys. Please.”

Harry nods sadly, back to chewing on his lip. “A-alright Lou,” he stammers. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

He nods again and walks back over to the desk, unloading three white styrofoam containers. I sigh and watch his nimble fingers bump around clumsily, obviously trying to keep whatever he has to say inside. It only lasts a few seconds though until he’s looking right back up at me, eyes a little watery.

“It helps you know,” he says softly. “To talk to someone about that sort of thing. I know it feels weird and awkward, but I want you to trust me Louis, because I trust you. I know I probably shouldn’t, but I do, and I want you to be able to talk to me. So please just…just know that if you ever change your mind, I’m here. Okay?”

I don’t say anything for a moment, too busy trying to stop the tears welling up in my eyes. Harry is so sweet and honest about everything, too sweet and too honest actually. I could really go for a drink right now if I knew it wouldn’t just be hurting him more than I already am.

I cough and nod, discreetly wiping my eyes. “Yeah, okay. Thank you Harry.”

He smiles. “You’re welcome. Are you hungry? Here, come share my lunch with me, I got the chips like you like see?” He opens the container and points to the chips which are covered with cheese and bacon and I laugh past the lump in my throat.

“Get them like that just for me?” I ask, winking.

Harry blushes and shakes his head. “No I just…I just like them like this now too, that’s all.”

Smiling now, I pull up a chair next to his and poke his blushing cheek, trying not to think of how adorable he looks like this. “Just teasing Haz. Hand them over.” Harry grins and plops down on his own chair and splits his burger and chips with me.

The rest of the day drags on and I have to stop myself from breaking into tears for most of it. When I walk in the door feeling absolutely exhausted, it hits me about double time when I see all the boys sitting in the living room together. Niall has his hands in Harry’s curls and they’re both laughing at something Zayn is saying while he holds Liam close to his chest.

“Li?” Liam looks up as soon as he hears my voice and I can tell he knows something’s wrong just from my tone. “I need to talk to you, uhm…alone. If you could.” He doesn’t even hesitate or stop to say goodbye, just untangles himself from Zayn and lets me lead the way to his bedroom. I can feel Harry’s eyes on my back until Liam shuts the door behind us.

My sobs break out as soon as I hear the lock click. I drop down onto the bed and cover my face with my hands, trying to stifle the noise so none of the others hear me.

“Hey, Louis,” Liam whispers, his hands coming around my wrists and gently tugging my hands away from my face. “Hey, hey, hey. Lou, what is it? What happened?”

I pull my hands away finally but only for long enough to lean forward and wrap my arms around Liam’s broad chest. “I told him. Liam, I told Harry about Mr. Killian when I was drunk and now-”

Liam sighs and brushes my fringe back. “Oh, Lou. It’s alright.” He murmurs as soft as he possibly can.

I shake my head against him, choking on more sobs. “No, it’s not alright, it’s not. Only you’re supposed to know, you’re the only one who won’t judge me for it and I hate myself. How could I do that? I’m so fucking stupid.” I fist my hands into the back of his shirt and hold on even tighter.

Liam doesn’t say anything for a little while, just lets me cry. He eventually gets me to lay down beside him and I move my hands to hold the front of his shirt like I used to do when we were kids and I had a bad dream because of the creaking his house always made at night. It’s also what I did the night I came back from Mr. Killians I remember, crying because everything hurt and I didn’t understand because I loved him so much and shouldn’t it have felt good if it was love? And the last few times I did it were only two years ago, the night my whole life changed and many nights afterwards when I realized Liam was the only thing I had that didn’t leave me.

“Louis, are you listening?” Liam murmurs eventually. He waits until I nod before continuing on. “Harry isn’t going to judge you. He isn’t an asshole, he understands that you were taken advantage of.”

“I’m so stupid,” I whisper back. “Now all he’s going to think about is that, every time he looks at me.”

Liam shakes his head. “Do you think that’s how I see you?”

“No, but that’s different.” I sniffle.

Liam hums under his breath and reaches for my hand, intertwining our fingers and squeezing. “And how is that different?”

I shrug. “Because you’re Liam. You’ve known me since I used to wet the bed and pick my nose, if you thought about everything bad and embarrassing thing I did every time you looked at me, we probably wouldn’t be able to stand each other.”

Liam chuckles at this. “Lou, you don’t understand how great of a person you are. I don’t think about those things when I look at you, because you aren’t your past and you aren’t your mistakes. Not that what Mr. Killian did to you was your mistake, it was his and I hope he rots in hell for doing that to you, but still. Harry understands that, you know he does.”

I think back to Harry in the studio and sigh. “Yeah. He does.” I don’t know how, but Harry does understand.

“Maybe it’s good you told him Lou,” Liam says, gathering me up closer to him and kissing the top of my head. “I mean, you haven’t ever really told anyone else, but me, and it’s not like I mind, it’s just that…Harry really likes you. He really, really does and it’s good for you to open up to someone who isn’t just in it to use you or break your heart.”

I shake my head, closing my eyes again. “No. He said-he said he doesn’t like me that way and that he knows I don’t either. He told me that.”

Liam sighs, breath stirring my hair. “I can see that he likes you, he’s painfully obvious about it. Do you…do you remember what you said to him last night, Lou?” I think about it for a moment, and then shake my head. I can’t really remember much of what I said last night, mostly just my actions, like kissing Harry. I could never forget that, drunk or not.

“You told him you’d have to be drunk to kiss him again.”

I gasp. “Oh god, Liam-”

“Is that true, Louis? You really wouldn’t kiss him again unless you were drunk?” Liam asks quietly. It’s his worried voice and when I pull away, I see him staring down at me with concern written all over his face, pulling at his features. I can see him trying to connect the dots and Liam is a bit slow, but he’s not that slow. If he keeps on this stream of thought, everything I’ve done will be for nothing.

“I was drunk when I said it. When do I ever mean the things I say when I’m drunk, Li?” I mumble, hoping that’s the end of it. I lean my head back on his chest when he says nothing else, and close my eyes. “I ruined it. Harry…Harry could have been something really good for me, and I went and ruined it.” Just like I ruin everything else, but I don’t say that because Liam will just start off again on how “amazing” I am.

“You didn’t ruin anything. Just talk to him, alright?” I nod and wipe my nose on my shirt, biting my lip when he groans. “Ugh, Lou seriously?”

I laugh and look up, bright smile on my face. “I love you Liam.” I say, dragging out the syllables but putting enough meaning behind it so he knows it’s the truth.

Liam laughs back and tosses my hair around a bit. “Yeah, love you too idiot. Best brother I ever could have asked for.”

“Big brother.”

“You act more like the little brother, in all honesty.” Liam laughs and it only breaks into more laughter when I start hitting him over the head with one of his stupid decorative pillows. Leave it to Liam and Zayn to buy  _decorative pillows_  for chrissake.

When the two of us reemerge, only Zayn and Harry are left. Harry’s on the air mattress, looking up at Zayn on the couch and talking about something but they pause as soon as we walk in. Zayn smiles slightly and gets up in his lazy catlike way, pulling Liam to his chest and kissing him.

“Alright?”

Liam nods, closing his eyes and resting their foreheads together. “Very. Let’s go to bed, m’tired, want you to hold me.”

Zayn grins and pecks him on the lips once more. “So cute when you ask.”

“Thank you for reminding me I’m painfully alone.” I tease.

Liam squeezes my hand once more and turns to leave while Zayn gives me a quick hug and tells Harry and I goodnight. I wait until they’re both in their room and I make sure mine and Niall’s door is shut, before going back to the living room.

Harry is curled up on the air mattress, playing with his sleeves and frowning at them thoughtfully. He looks up briefly when I sit down next to him, but returns back to inspecting the frayed edges of his jumper again. I frown and reach forward, taking the end of the sleeve in my hands and looking at it.

“Babe, is this the jumper you were wearing when I found you?” I ask.

Harry shrugs sheepishly. “Yeah, I dunno. Just kind of reminds me, I guess.”

I frown. “Reminds you of what?”

Harry bites at his lip and blushes only redder. “How lucky I am that you found me.” He looks like he wants to disappear, and all I can do is smile wider and poke where his dimple would be.

“You’re so cute, Hazza.” I say. As if proving my point, he lets out a disgruntled noise and hides his face in his sleeves. Laughing, I push myself down next to him and push him around until he’s giggling so hard he has to pull his hands away to breathe.

Harry smiles at me, biting his lip and grabbing for his pillow. “M’tired Louis, I’m going to bed.” He says, yawning like a kitten.

I sigh and rest my head on the edge of the pillow, looking at him. “Harry, what ever I said to you last night, please don’t take it to heart,” I whisper. “I’m such an asshole when I’m drunk. You didn’t deserve it.”

Harry bites his lip and shrugs. “Wasn’t anything too bad.” He mumbles under his breath, and I know that’s a lie.

“You deserve the best Harry, you know that?” I yawn back, and then smile when Harry does the same. “My sister Fizzy used to tell me yawns were contagious. She always used the twins as her experiment, I’m pretty sure she thought she’d found the breakthrough of modern day science with that one.” I say, without even thinking about it.

Harry smiles, his eyes drifting closed. “I bet you never told her everyone knows that.”

I scoff. “’Course not, if she wants to be a genius then she can be a genius.”

He blinks his sleepy eyes open one more time. “You’re such a good brother, Lou. Such a good person.”

I freeze at that, shaking my head immediately. “I’m really not. Especially not the brother part.”

Harry reaches around blindly until he finds my hands. He grabs one and laces our fingers together, giving it a quick tug until he’s holding it right up against his chest. I can feel his heartbeat under my palm, slow and steady though I know my own is racing. He sighs and squirms around a bit more, getting comfortable.

“You’re an angel, Louis,” he sighs. “Stay with me?”

I bite my lip, tempted to pull away, but even more tempted to stay. “What?”

He squeezes my hand tighter and I wonder if he’s dreaming, because I can see his eyes flicking behind his eyelids restlessly. “I never have nightmares when you’re with me.”

Harry sounds so innocent and hopeful that I can’t say no, even though I should. He’s clearly told me he doesn’t want me and this is really only torturing myself further, but I can’t just leave him when he’s telling me he needs me. So, I tug on his blanket and settle in closer.

“I’m gonna fight away all your monsters, Harry.” I promise him.

His eyes flutter open, showing me just a small sliver of green. A sleepy smile spreads across his face. “I know you will, Lou,” he whispers, bringing my knuckles up to his lips and simply leaving them there. “I know you will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the next chapter will be up sooner (hopefully) because I know exactly what it is yaaaay


	11. Chapter 10

Waking up from my nightmare feels like being doused with a bucket of cold water and drowning in it. I pull myself up into a sitting position and wrap my arms around my knees, breathing heavily and counting my breaths on my fingers. My hands continue to shake though, and I can’t get rid of the screaming and the pain from my dream and how real it all seemed. Needing reassurance, I pull myself up on wobbly legs and walk down the hall.

I poke my head into Liam and Zayn’s room first, because they always keep their door slightly open. I breathe a quiet sigh of relief when I see they’re both safe and still asleep, Zayn’s head buried against Liam’s chest and Liam holding on. I move to Louis and Niall’s room next and nod to myself shortly when I see they’re safe and still sleeping as well.  _No one’s hurt, no one’s dead, my dream was just a dream_ I think to myself in a mantra.

I look over at the clock and groan when I see it’s only four in the morning. I know there’s no way I’ll stop panicking enough to go back to sleep at this point.

I freeze when I hear someone’s sheets ruffling. “Haz?” Niall pokes his head up out of his piles of blankets and frowns when he sees me. “What’re you doin’?”

I bite my lip in embarrassment. I probably look like an absolute creep right now, just standing in their doorway watching them sleep. “I um…nightmares.” I say, simply.

Niall pushes himself up and motions for me to come closer while he rubs sleepily at his eyes. I come forward, taking a seat at the edge of the bed and looking down at my fingers bashfully. I always feel like such a child every time I have nightmares, which has become more and more frequent lately, unless Louis is tired enough to fall asleep with me. It’s been two weeks since the incident at the pub and I still haven’t made any headway in trying to convince myself not to like him. It’s especially hard because of how cuddly he is, and the fact that he gladly spends the night in bed with me if I get up the courage to ask.

“What about?” Niall asks softly.

I heave a heavy sigh. I’m not too keen on rehashing the full details of my dream, because it was terrifyingly vivid, so I give him the short version. “You all…all of you died and it was just really real, I guess. I’m sorry for being so creepy but I had to make sure you-that you all were okay.”

“Oh, Haz,” Niall says, his lower lip pouting. “It was just a dream, okay? C’mere.” He opens his arms and after a moments hesitation, I crawl across the bed into them.

“M’sorry.” I mutter.

Niall shakes his head. “Don’t be, alright? I’d probably be crying my arse off if I had a dream like that,” I laugh and I can feel him smiling against my hair. “Wanna cuddle? Would that make you feel better?”

“That’d be nice,” I nod. “Just so I’m sure you’re actually alive.” Niall chuckles and tugs on my hair before separating from me. I lay down next to him and lean into his hands so he can scratch at my scalp.

“Ni, you’re a really good friend.” I mutter, pushing myself closer to him.

He laughs but it quickly turns into a yawn. “Yeah, I’m pretty great.” He mumbles. I just roll my eyes and let myself fall asleep.

My sister always held me whenever I had nightmares. Somehow she’d always hear me, it didn’t matter that her room was the farthest from mine, she always knew. Each time she would climb into bed with me, sing a soft lullaby into my hair, and promise a million times that’d she’d always be there to protect me. She isn’t now, but I don’t blame her for that, I could never blame her for that. It still stings whenever I remember her whispering to me late at night, though.

_You’ll never be alone Haz, I will always protect you. I won’t let anyone hurt you, I promise._

“It’s like a postcard, look at them!” A soft whisper, that’s unmistakably Louis, breaks through my dream of my sister what seems like only moments later, though it must have been hours. “This is a kodak moment, Li.”

“Oh, don’t do that,” Liam sighs. “Niall’s going to kill you.”

“Yeah, and Harry’s going to do his cute blushing thing and I’m going to relish it.” Louis snickers back.

I yawn and slowly open my eyes, absentmindedly noticing the weight around my shoulders. All I can see in front of me is the fabric of Niall’s t-shirt and the skin of his neck, and I realize I’m pulled up flush to his chest with his arms securely around my shoulders. I turn my head a bit, pressing the other side against his shirt, and see Liam and Louis standing next to the bed, Louis with his phone held out in front of him.

“He’s awake!” Louis laughs, looking far too pleased about this.”Good morning Sleeping Beauty.”

“What?” I groan.

Louis grins and I here the artificial shutter sound of his phone’s camera. “Just documenting the moment. You and the other baby all snuggled up in bed, dreaming your sugarplum dreams or whatever.”

I reach up over Niall’s arm to wipe at my eyes, trying to clear the blurriness. “We’re not babies, you’re just ancient.” I yawn.

Liam laughs and Louis gasps at him, kicking the other boy in the shin. “Don’t encourage his bad behavior!” He screeches, doing a horrible impersonation of a girl’s voice. Liam doesn’t even seem phased, and just shoots me a grin that I quickly return.

When I try to sit up, Niall makes a loud noise of protest and jerks me backwards roughly. “S’mine stop.” He slurs out. I raise my eyebrows and both the other boys start laughing at my misfortune. Niall’s eyebrows furrow in his sleep and he grumbles something else that I can’t comprehend before his eyes flutter open. He blinks around and frowns when he sees us all. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Nialler, I have to make breakfast.” I say, trying not to laugh.

Niall sees how tight his arms are and immediately lets go, rolling onto his back and groaning loudly. “I fucking knew it. The gay is contagious,” he moans, dropping his hands over his eyes and shaking his head. “It’s in the water, it has to be. It is scientifically impossible to have this much homosexuality in one flat.”

Louis puts on his mischievous grin and launches himself onto the bed like he’s taking off from a diving board into a pool, landing across the two of us with an  _oomph_. He wiggles over to start pawing at Niall’s face and shirt while Niall tries to shove him away. “Liam, call Zayn in, Niall is finally up for an orgy!” Louis yells, trying to lift Niall’s shirt up.

“Lou, get your fat arse off me!” Niall shrieks.

I roll my eyes at the two of them and pull myself out from under Louis’ legs, turning in an attempt to get off the bed. I stop however when a pair of arms wrap around my waist and a chin comes to rest on my shoulder. “Where are you going Haz, we’ve only just started.” Louis purrs seductively.

My heart stutters and I have to physically stop myself from shivering at his breath on my neck or jumping away. “Breakfast.” I manage to squeak out. I pull away and ignore the strange look Liam sends me on my way out the door.

Zayn’s at the kitchen table when I walk in, on the phone. He gives me a short smile and a mouthed greeting and returns to his call. I rifle through the fridge looking for the eggs so I can make french toast with the challah bread I had talked Louis into buying for me the day before. I’m convinced he only bought it because he thought the name was fun to say.

“Yeah, we probably will,” I hear Zayn say from behind me. “Louis might not want to though…well, yeah he’s coming. Harry? You wanna go clubbing tonight with us and Nick, babe?”

I turn back and frown a bit at the thought of taking Louis into a club, but he’s been able to stop himself before, so I nod. “Sure.” Zayn grins and stands up to leave while I go back to making the french toast.

Louis walks in soon after, smiling from ear to ear probably about Niall. I notice he’s wearing one of my jumpers and my heart gives a tug, but I don’t mention it. He wrinkles his little nose when he sees the bowl of eggs at my side. “What’s this then, soggy bread? We need to hire a new cook.”

“It’s french toast, you ungrateful twat.” Unable to help myself, I poke him in the nose and he jumps at me, laughing into the crook of my neck. I shake him off and mix the cinnamon and vanilla into the eggs, letting Louis drop the bread into the batter and then into the hot pan with a satisfied grin. He keeps one arm wrapped around my waist and his head leaning on my shoulder while he watches me cook.

“Zayn wants us to go out with Nick tonight.” I say, casually.

Louis groans. “I wanna stay home with you,” he complains. “We can snuggle and watch all the Disney movies that make you cry.”

I grimace at this. “Did you make a list?”

“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t?” His hand squeezes my hip gently and I roll my eyes. Of course Louis would remember every movie that ever made me tear up. I make a mental note to catch him crying over something stupid one of these days, though I doubt I’ll be able to.

“How did you end up with Niall last night?” Louis asks.

I sigh and turn away from his face. It’s much easier to talk about things like this when I can’t see his face with his always concerned eyes. “I had a nightmare that you all died, so I came to check if you were alright and Niall woke up.”

Louis sighs softly and wraps his other arm around me as well, stopping me from continuing with my cooking. He hugs me tight and runs his hands over my back soothingly. “Poor baby Hazzy. Are you alright?”

I chuckle and brush his feathered fringe back across his head. “M’fine Lou, it was just a dream. It was really scary though.”

“I bet.” Louis affirms.

“I don’t want to lose you guys, that’s all.” I mumble, surprised at myself for even being brave enough to say it.

Louis pulls back and frowns at me. “Harry, you aren’t going to lose us. We love you, you’re our friend now and you aren’t getting rid of us I promise.”

I shrug. “What if you get hurt?” My voice is small and scared and I wish I could go ten seconds without reverting back to a child.

Louis reaches for my hands and pulls them into his own, tracing my palms gently. “Babe, you have to trust me, okay? No one is going to get hurt, you aren’t losing us, we’re always going to be here. I’m always going to be here. You’re my new best mate now, fourth in line. You should be honored.”

I laugh and turn my palms so I can squeeze his hands briefly. “Immensely honored.” Louis does a horribly dramatic wink that makes me laugh. I let him help me make the rest of the french toast and don’t even comment when he burns about half of it.

We decide to eat in the living room because Liam is excited for the Christmas cartoons that have finally been showing lately, and the couch and air mattress are much more comfortable than the table anyway. Liam and Zayn sit on the couch while Louis, Niall, and I sit down on the air mattress. Frosty the Snowman is on and Liam insists on singing the song over and over again until Niall threatens to turn it off and make us all watch football instead.

“I love Christmas.” Liam says, looking like a giddy child.

Louis rolls his eyes but gives him a fond smile. “We know, Li.”

Liam grins and gives Zayn a sticky maple syrup kiss on the cheek. To his credit, Zayn doesn’t even wipe it off, just makes a face. “Zayn’s coming to mine for the first few days of break. Mum asked me to ask you to come too, Lou.”

Louis visibly freezes, fork halfway to his mouth and syrup dripping slowly down onto his plate. He notices us all watching expectantly and clears his throat, putting his fork down gently. “That’s alright, I think I’ll just stay here.”

“Louis you were all alone last year,” Liam says sadly. “Please just come? Mum wants to make you a cake and everything for your birthday, she misses you.”

“Your birthday?” I ask.

Louis cringes and shakes his head. “It’s Christmas Eve, but it’s fine Liam really. Tell her thank you.”

“But it’s your twentieth-”

“Liam, let it go.” Louis snaps.

Liam frowns down at his plate and shrugs. “M’sorry Lou.” He murmurs. Zayn gives Louis a look and wraps an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders protectively. Louis rolls his eyes and turns back to the tv.

For awhile no one says anything, and I start to wonder if this is exactly what happened last year too. Why wouldn’t Louis want to go home and see his sisters? He always talks about them, at least when he’s drunk, I just figured he’d get to see them over Christmas at least, and definitely for his birthday.

“Harry’s gonna be here over break too, aren’t you?” Liam says softly.

I nod, biting my lip nervously. “I mean I was but if…if you guys aren’t comfortable with me staying alone-”

“That’s not what I meant,” Liam says quickly. “I just…well maybe you and Louis could have Christmas together?”

Louis laughs. “I don’t think Harry wants to spend Christmas with me. Maybe I’ll just go to Spain or summat, it’s still hot there right?”

“I do,” I say a little too quickly. “I mean, you don’t have to. I wasn’t going to do anything anyway.” I have to stop myself from groaning because I sound like an idiot. Obviously Louis wants to just go on holiday without me around like I always am, acting like a prepubescent child with a crush.

Louis looks at me, his expression unreadable. Finally he nods and reaches over to squeeze my knee softly. “Yeah, sure. Let’s do dysfunctional Christmas, Haz.” I grin, unable to help it, and Louis smiles back.

Liam starts talking excitedly about how we absolutely have to put up a tree, and a list of things we need to buy from the store to decorate with before the rest of them leave for home on Wednesday. Louis just smiles and keeps sending me strange looks the rest of the day until he finally corners me in the bathroom before we leave to meet up with Nick and his friends.

“Hey Haz,” He says casually. I smile and go back to trying to fix my curls which are beyond unruly today. Louis watches me for a bit, before he just laughs and points to the toilet. “Sit down and let me help you. We’ll be here all day if you keep going like that.”

I roll my eyes and mumble a comment about his height, before sitting like I’m told. He grabs one of Zayn’s many hair products, sniffs it, before dipping his fingers in and working into my hair.

“Did you just sniff that to judge if it’s okay to use on my hair?” I ask, appalled.

Louis grins. “Stop moving, you’re going to ruin it!” He flicks me on the forehead and sighs when I jerk away. “God, you’re worse than my sisters, they-” Louis cuts off and even from where I’m sitting I can see his lips turn slightly downward.

“Did you used to do their hair too?” I asks carefully.

Louis’ sad eyes turn a little brighter and he nods. “I used to braid it every morning before school when my mum was working. Do you want braids too?”

“Two on each side, if you please.”

To my delight Louis laughs. I smile at him and he goes back to working through my hair, styling it and swooping it to one side. Finally, he pulls back with a flourish and shouts; “Voila! It is my masterpiece!” in a perfect French accent.

I stand up and look it over in the mirror. “Christ Lou, I should have you doing this for me all the time.” I say, poking at my fringe experimentally.

“I am not your whore!” Louis cries.

I roll my eyes at him and sit up on the counter, watching him fixing his fringe in the mirror. He looks good, ridiculously good actually, his t-shirt dips down to show his collarbones and his jeans are skin tight, the whole outfit leaving almost nothing to the imagination. My fingers itch to reach out and trace over his golden skin, leave small marks on his neck with my lips and see what noise he’d make in response. I shake the thoughts out of my mind and take a few deep breaths, kicking my feet around.

Louis’ eyes flit to mine a few times, until he finally pulls back a bit from the mirror to face me full on. “Babe, if you don’t want to spend Christmas with me I’d totally understand. I know Liam kind of forced you into saying yes, but you really don’t have to.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to?” I ask softly.

Louis laughs and points to himself, as if that’s an explanation. “Haz, I’m a miserable twat and that’s multiplied by about a thousand around the hols. You should have seen me last year, I spent my birthday laying on the couch with four bottles of wine and sad movie marathon and I spent Christmas in a bar crying with a bunch of old men. You should go home, maybe go with Nick or something, I know he asked you.”

I bite my lip and look down because Nick has already asked me to come home with him, but I refused for multiple reasons, the main one being this is my first Christmas without my sister and being around everything that reminds me of her would only do more harm than good. Getting to spend Christmas with Louis has only added to the list now.

“I want to spend it with you,” I say firmly. “And you aren’t going to get drunk until at least midnight, I don’t care how miserable you are. We’re having a proper birthday for you and a proper Christmas, and if you say no I’m going to tell Liam and he’s going to drag you home with him by your hair. You’re going to have to spend your twentieth birthday watching the two of them kissing and cuddling all over the place.”

Louis stares at me, stunned. I don’t shy away though, instead I cross my arms and raise my eyebrows, daring him to say no. After a few seconds of our staring contest, Louis breaks and starts laughing. “Jesus Haz, you’re brutal. Fine, I’ll spend Christmas with you you twat. But only if you make me a ham.”

I smile. “Fine, but I get to lift you up when you put the star on the top of the tree.”

“I’d like to see you try to lift my fat arse.” Louis snorts.

I jump off the counter and walk away, smacking him on the ass on my way out the door and making Louis emit a loud cry. “I like your arse.” I laugh. Before he can do anything drastic, like throw a glob of whatever he’s putting in his hair at my face, I run from the room.

We all leave to meet Nick at a club that’s about a twenty minute drive by cab from our flat, and Louis spends the entire drive telling everyone how he did my hair. I just smile proudly and let him brag if he wants to. He isn’t drinking tonight, so he says, so I figure keeping his mouth running is a good way to keep his mind off that.

“Harry isn’t pulling tonight, he’s my arm candy.” Nick announces as we spill out of the cab.

“Why do you get to decide that?” I ask, laughing when he wraps an arm around my waist and tugs me closer.

Nick shrugs. “Because I got us on the list and you’re grateful, that’s why.”

I roll my eyes but let him lead me behind Zayn and Liam towards the club. I turn back to shout for Louis and Niall to hurry up when I see Louis’ face. He’s frowning, his eyes stone cold and set on Nick’s arm, and his hands curled into tight fists at his side. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he looks jealous.

Nick lets go of me to go talk to the bouncer and I stop until Lou comes to my side. “Y’alright?” I ask.

Louis nods. “Perfect, Haz. Come on, Niall wants me to play wingman I need to mentally prepare myself.”

Thinking back to what happened the last time I went out with the boys and Nick, I try not to get too drunk again. That idea is completely forgotten though when I pass the point of cuddly and happy drunk to angry and horny. Nick sees it, I can tell by the way he’s looking at me from the side of me, but Louis doesn’t. I hide it pretty well for a couple hours, until I notice a guy staring at me from across the bar.

I smile and he smiles back, downing the drink in his hand and moving back into the crowd. “Who’s that, Haz?” Louis asks curiously. He’s only had two drinks, just pints, and I don’t think they’ve made any impact on him. He’s had one eye on me the whole night and the other on Niall, who’s chatting up some short blond girl he apparently knows from class.

“Dunno.” I laugh, sipping up the last of the brightly colored drink in my hand. When I turn away from the bar I see the guy now standing in front of me. He’s taller than I am if only by a bit, with dark brown hair cut short to his scalp, sort of like Liam’s.

I grin and set my glass down, walking up to him and laughing when he leans down to yell over the music into my ear. “Dance with me?” I nod and let him lead us out to the dance floor, ignoring the feeling of Louis’ eyes on my back as we go.

“M’Harry.” I yell while we walk.

He grins and reveals that he has dimples as well, though they’re much deeper than my own. “James.” He yells back. I smile and he presses a thumb into my dimple, before dragging me into the throng of people.

We dance until I’m pressed so far up against him I don’t even think about it when his hand reaches down to tease at the skin at the bottom of my spine, lifting my shirt up a bit. “Who are you here with?” He asks, his mouth pressed to my neck.

I moan slightly and let my eyes fall closed. “Just some mates.”

James laughs. “Mates, hmm? The short one is jealous.”

I turn in surprise and open my eyes again so I can search the crowded club until I spot Louis. He’s still leaning up against the bar though Niall seems to have disappeared and Zayn is at his side. His face looks just as it did when Nick was teasing me, but now he has his arms crossed over his chest and he’s glaring at James like he’s some sort of criminal. When James moves a hand up to my neck to prompt me to turn and look, I can see Louis’ flicking his hair angrily and can’t help my smile.

“Are you going this to make him jealous?” James chuckles when he sees my face.

 _Why not?_ I think to myself, so I nod. “Possibly.”

James grins and leans forward until our noses are touching. “I’ve got you covered. Just close your eyes and think of England, love.” I laugh but stop when his mouth comes to cover mine and his hand reaches farther up towards my cheekbone. He’s a fantastic kisser actually, I wouldn’t mind continuing it if he keeps his fingers playing carefully over my cheeks and his tongue tangled with mine. That is until I’m being pulled back by my t-shirt.

“Harry,” Louis has a hold on my t-shirt and he’s still glaring at James, his eyes narrowing as he speaks. “He’s seventeen, you know. How old are you, you perv, thirty?”

James laughs loudly and raises his hands in surrender, taking a step backward. “Sorry, didn’t know he was yours.”

“Yeah, well he is so fuck off!” Louis eyes widen at his own words and I feel his hand slowly let go of my shirt. “Wait, no I meant-” James winks at me and walks away. I mouth a thank you and let out a pleased noise when Louis moves his arm to wrap around my waist.

“You’re drunk.” He says, pulling me back towards the bar.

I shrug and giggle a bit, letting his words to James play over and over again in my mind. “Yeah, so? He was cute, huh?”

Louis shakes his head but doesn’t meet my eyes. “He was old.”

“You’re old,” I counter, and he says nothing to that. “And he was a fantastic kisser.”

“Well that’s just fucking great for you,” Louis growls. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

A sudden anger flares up in me and I stop. Louis tries to keep walking but I dig my heels down until he stops and turns back to look at me. The flashing lights of the club shadow his face only making him look angrier, and that makes me angrier. “If you’re jealous, say something! You don’t get to just barge into my life whenever you fucking want to, Louis. If I want to kiss some guy, then I’ll damn well do it.”

“I’m pretty sure I get to, seeing as how if it weren’t for me, you’d be dead by now!” He shoots back and immediately looks like he regrets it.

“And where would you be without me, then?” I laugh. “Dead by now too, Lou, because you can’t fucking control yourself.”

Louis takes two quick strides forward and grabs the front of my shirt, somehow still managing to be intimidating even when he has to get up on his tiptoes just to growl in my face. “You don’t know me, Harry. Don’t act like you do.”

“And you don’t know me either. Let go of me.” I spit back. Honestly, I’m proud of myself for not letting my fear show at how he’s grabbing at me.

Louis’ eyes widen and he lets go. “Harry I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have done a lot of things.” I mutter, pushing past him. I want nothing more than to go back and yell at him for playing my feelings like this, telling me he doesn’t want me and then acting like he has any right to be jealous of me and another guy. The anger I was trying to keep down before is back and raging.

I find Liam and Zayn at the bar, ostensibly watching the two of us while we were fighting. “I’m kind of ready to go, if that’s alright.” I say to them.

Zayn reaches out to put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it softly. “Of course, Haz. What happened?”

“Lou’s a cockblock, that’s all,” I try to joke. “I’ll be outside whenever you guys are done.” Before they can try and stop me, I turn and go.

There’s a few people milling around outside smoking and laughing. I lean against the building and sigh, staring up at the cloudy night sky until I hear my name being called. James sees me and smiles, walking over from where he’s standing at the door. I smile back and push off the building so I’m standing up straight again.

“Thought you’d run off with the short guy,” He laughs as he walks up. “You want a smoke?”

Usually I’d say no, my sister instilled the belief in me very early on that smoking is a disgusting habit, but I figure tonight can’t get much worse so I accept. “We had a fight. I don’t think he likes me, actually.”

“Yeah, right. He was pissed at me, mate.” James rolls his eyes and passes me a fag from a box he seems to have conjured up from nowhere. He lights it for me and snickers when I cough a few times and flip him off. “You really are young, aren’t you.”

“Not that young.” I mutter, placing the filter back between my lips and inhaling slowly. I haven’t smoked in awhile, not since well before I ranaway, back behind the bleechers while my friends and I skived off class.

James dark eyes drag over me and he grins, smoke spilling from his lips. “Definitely don’t look seventeen. I’m only twenty, you know, not thirty.”

I laugh and push my curls back. They’ve completely lost the style Louis had set it in, partially from the night wearing on, and partially from sweating while I danced, and are now hanging down into my eyes. James watches and reaches for me when I go to put my arms back down at my sides.

“Gimme your hand, kid.” I raise an eyebrow, but let him take my hand in his own. He reaches around in his pockets until he comes out with a broken pen, brandishing it with a grin. I smile as the pen tickles my palm and when he relinquishes it, I now have his phone number.

“Just in case you don’t end up coming home with me tonight.” James says with a wink.

“Harry!” I look up and groan when I see Louis stomping over from the other boys at the door of the club. “What are you doing?”

I grin and blow a puff of smoke into his face, giggling when he coughs and bats it away. “Hanging out with James.”

“We’re going home.” He says, reaching for the fag in my hand. I pull back and shake my head, taking another short puff.

“I don’t know if I am.” I look at James out of the corner of my eye and grin at him.

Louis’ face falls. He looks sad, I realize, not angry or jealous anymore, but simply sad. His voice is just as heartbroken as his face. “Harry, come on. Be serious.”

I go to tell him just how serious I am, when James is suddenly blocking my view. He grins and leans in to kiss me once more softly. “You’ve got my number, right? Go ahead home, babe.”

I smile and nod. “I’ll call you.” James grins at this and gives me one final peck on the lips before walking off.

Louis watches him go, face contorted into disgust. He reaches for my fag again and gets it this time, dropping it to the ground and crushing it under his shoe. “Smoking isn’t attractive.” He tells me.

“Oh, and I  _live_ to be attractive for you.” I purr, letting the last of the smoke blow out from my lips. Louis’ eyes widen and I can see him swallow. I laugh and walk past him towards the other boys who are all watching us curiously.

“Are you alright, Haz?” Niall asks slowly.

I smile. “Of course. I’m always alright, aren’t I Louis?” I turn back and my smile turns into a sinister grin. “Fantastic.”

“Harry, come on. Don’t do this,” Nick says softly. “This isn’t you, this is-”

“Fuck you.” I stop him before he can continue, before he can tell me exactly who I’m acting like.

“Harry, you’re acting like a twat, stop it!”

“Who do you think you are?” I ask, taking a few steps towards him. “You think just because she’s dead, you get to take her place is that it? You aren’t my mother Nicholas, and you sure as hell aren’t my sister. You left! You left and you forgot about me and about all of us, so don’t you dare fucking act like you have any right to talk to me like this, like you understand!”

“Harry.”

“What Louis? What do you fucking want?” I snap, whirling around to face him. In that moment, I realize I sound so familiar and the terrified look Louis is giving me is familiar as well. All I can think of is what my sister would say if she could see me right now, what she would think of me. She’d be ashamed.

“Haz, I’m not mad,” Nick murmurs from behind me, but I can’t take my eyes off Louis. “You’re drunk babe, you need to go home and sleep this off.”

All I can see is Louis. Louis looking at me with terrified, wide eyes that have turned understanding and sad. “I need…Louis. Louis, please.” I can’t finish it, I can’t say what I’m actually thinking.  _Please don’t hate me. Please don’t think I’d ever hurt you._

Louis comes forward and wraps his arms around me. “Hey, it’s alright okay? No one’s mad at you, I’m not mad at you.”

“I’m an asshole.” I whisper.

Louis laughs and rubs circles on my back. “Little bit. Come on, the cab’s here.”

I end up pressed against Louis’ chest in the cab, slowly falling asleep with the gentle rocking of the car and his hands over my back. “He gets sleepy when he’s drunk. Angry too, if he’s had enough which he obviously has,” I hear Nick say, breaking through my slumber. “Just take care of him, yeah?”

“I’ve got him.” Louis says, his fingers scratching at my scalp.

When I wake up the next time, Liam is laying me down onto a bed and smiling at me. “I’m glad this isn’t one of your habits, Harry. You’re getting heavy.”

“Oh, leave him alone.” Louis sighs, coming up behind Liam and placing a hand on his back.

I frown and glance around. “S’not my bed.” I say, as if they don’t know that.

Louis nods and says nothing else. Liam walks away and shuts the door, plunging the room into near darkness. Louis climbs in next to me and reaches out to grab my hand like he always does. “You smell like I smoke.”

“I think I like smoking.” I mumble, my mouth feeling like it’s stuffed with cotton.

Louis chuckles under his breath. “Well, I don’t.”

“Louis, I’m sorry I yelled at you,” I whisper, squeezing our fingers. “Do you still wanna have Christmas with me.”

Louis full out laughs at that and I feel the sheets shift as he comes nearer. He kisses my forehead and then my eyelids as I shut them. “Of course I do, idiot. Go to sleep.”

I try, but there’s still one thing picking at my mind. “Hey, Lou?” I whisper.

I can hear Louis sigh, but he still laughs softly. “Yes Harry.”

“You were jealous, huh? Of James?” I ask, a smile pulling at my lips.

Louis pinches my cheek before kissing it softly. “Go to sleep, love.”

“You were,” I giggle. “You were so jealous.”

“Fine, I was a little jealous,” Louis laughs in my ear. “Does that make you feel better? Can I go to sleep now?”

“I knew it.”

“You’re a minx.”

I open my eyes and lean up so I can wrap my arms around Louis’ neck and lay against his chest. “We can buy a Christmas tree tomorrow, right?” I ask slowly, just in case he still isn’t sure about forgiving me for yelling at him.

Louis chuckles. “Of course sweetheart. Goodnight.”

I snuggle closer to his neck and sigh happily there, letting my eyes close again. To my delight, there are no nightmares tonight. Instead I dream of Louis and I at Christmas and his birthday, the presents I can buy for him with my new paycheck, and the way he looks with snowflakes in his hair. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments and kudos!!
> 
> tumblr: amoryfics


	12. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much fluff, ugh I'm sorry. Enjoy :)

Niall comes crashing into our room at exactly far too early in the damn morning o’clock, and I’m positive he’s still slightly drunk. He was the only one of us who pulled last night if you don’t count Harry, which I’m not, and ended up leaving with some girl right after the rest of us took the cab home.

“You slept with Harry!” Niall shouts, pointing two fingers at me and grinning so all of his teeth are on display.

“Niall, shut the fuck up, christ,” I whisper, covering Harry’s ear that isn’t pressed to my chest with my hand. “I did not sleep with Harry! I wasn’t even drunk, he was. You were there, remember?”

Niall frowns and thinks about it for a moment, before throwing both thumbs up and yeah, he’s definitely at least a little drunk. “I left with the blond!”

“Yeah, you did.” I mutter, rolling my eyes.

He laughs and falls back onto his bed, his arms and legs splaying out in what cannot be a comfortable position. “She’s nice, Lou.”

“Well I’m glad.”

Niall hums happily to himself and closes his eyes. I try to go back to sleep but it’s useless because not even a few seconds after I close my eyes again, Harry is whimpering in his sleep and grabbing at my shirt.

“Louis,” he sniffles. “No, Louis, no.”

I can hear Niall giggling but I shush him immediately. “Harry, love I’m right here,” I whisper, brushing softly at the hair curling over his ear.

Harry shakes his head and tightens his grip around my stomach, his fingernails cutting into my sides. “Please, not Louis. Stop.” His whimpering turns painful and I can’t just sit here and do nothing, so I pull us up until we’re sitting and shake him softly.

“Hazza, come on wake up. It’s just a dream, you have to wake up alright?”

His breathing accelerates and he starts shaking his head again. I keep shaking him and calling his name until he finally opens his eyes and cries out, “Lou? Louis?”

“I’m right here, Harry.” It’s absolutely terrifying to see how empty his eyes are as he searches my face. He doesn’t even look like Harry, honestly, until he finally lets out another sob and hugs me tight.

Harry jolts back up almost as soon as I wrap my arms around him and starts looking around. “Niall?” His voice scratchy and thick with tears and it pulls at my heart.

Niall seems sobered by his crying and sits up in bed. “Yeah, Haz.” He says softly.

Harry turns back to me, his lower lip quivering. “And-and Liam and Zayn-”

“Hazza, babe, everyone’s fine,” I whisper, trying to keep my tone even and calm for him. “I promise, alright?”

“Nick?” He asks.

“I draw the line at calling Grimshaw up at eight in the morning on a Sunday just to make sure he’s alive. Which I know he is.” I’m hoping this will at least get a smile out of Harry, but it doesn’t.

He pulls off me and sits up on his own, wiping at his eyes and brushing his tears away. “You have to promise I’m not gonna lose you all too,” he says to me. “I can’t keep losing everyone, you have to promise you’ll be safe. Please, Louis, please.”

Harry’s breathing is coming out in short sharp gasps again, so I reach for him out of instinct. “Harry, you need to breathe, alright? Can you hear me?” He nods and presses his forehead to mine, closing his eyes. I feel absolutely helpless, so I try to remember what he normally does in this situation. “Count. That helps, right?”

Harry nods just enough so I know he’s heard me, and starts whispering under his breath. He’s counting up to ten slowly, squeezing his eyes shut and whimpering something in between the numbers. “It’s over, it’s over, it’s over.”

“What’s over?”

“Nothing,” Harry’s eyes snap open and he pulls away from me, scooting back across the bed. “The uh, the dream. I’m going to take a shower.” I try to reach forward and brush the new tears away, but Harry’s already getting out of bed and walking away.

Niall rolls out of bed in what I’m sure he thinks is a sneaky move, and peeks out the door after Harry. He comes back pouting. “He checked on the boys.”

I sigh and fall back on the bed, rubbing at my eyes. “He’s worth all this trouble,” I mutter, mostly to myself. “That’s the worst part.” Of course that’s a lie, because Harry is worth the trouble, but I don’t even mind. As long as he’s here with me, I could care less how early he wakes me up or how often he needs to be comforted. I like it, actually, which I’d never admit to anyone else.

“You’re in love with him.” Niall chuckles.

“I am not.” I growl, and Niall just full out laughs this time.

“Whatever you say, Lou,” he sighs. “But he really likes you too, no matter what he says. If you idiots don’t do something about it soon, I might knock your damn heads together.”

“Shutup Niall, go to sleep.” I get out of bed and leave him laughing on his bed like this is the funniest thing to ever happen.

I throw myself down onto Harry’s air mattress and flip the tv on to see Frosty the Snowman is on, which tells me Liam must have been watching it before he went to sleep last night. I don’t turn it though, because it was always the twins’ favorite Christmas movie and it makes me think of them. I wonder what they’re doing now, if they’re just waking up and helping my mum make Christmas cookies like she always did practically all of December, or maybe they’re helping Lottie and Fizzy decorate the tree, or building a fort in the new fallen snow outside. I sigh and push at my eyes, trying to keep the tears back and not cry about my sisters like a child.

“Hey Lou.” I pull my hand away from my eyes and immediately wish I hadn’t. Harry’s still wet from the shower and is wearing nothing other than a towel draped loosely around his waist. I’m almost positive it’s going to fall off any moment and I’m not sure if that’s a bad thing or a very, very good thing.

“We’re getting the tree today so wear something warm.” Somehow I manage to keep my voice from shaking and cracking and my mouth from gaping open, instead going for a bored tone. I deserve an Academy Award for that performance.

Harry grins at me, his cute childlike smile completely at odds with his body. “A real tree?” He asks delightedly. “I’ve never had a real tree before. We only ever had a plastic one at home.”

“That’s ridiculous!” I gasp, a bit offended on his behalf. Who in their right mind buys a plastic tree anyway?

Harry just shrugs and bends over to go through my suitcase that he stole from my closet one day and claimed as his own. Not that I mind of course, and I certainly don’t mind the the view I’m getting right now. I let my eyes roam over his skin hungrily while he isn’t looking. He’s gained weight since I first met him, now at a healthy weight that looks absolutely fantastic on him. When he stands back up clutching some close to this chest, my eyes fall back on his scar.

“Are you ever going to tell me what that’s from?” I ask, frowning at the mark that runs down his stomach.

Harry pales and coughs a bit. “Surgery.”

I raise an eyebrow. He hasn’t gotten any better at lying since he’s been with us, which is a bit surprising, I would have thought he’d learn a thing or to from me by now. “To get what, you intestines out? That thing is huge, Haz-”

“I’d really rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.” He interrupts me.

I close my mouth, feeling like a complete arse, and nod. “Yeah, m’sorry.”

Harry sighs and it looks like he might say something else, but he just leaves with his clothes to go back to the bathroom. I groan at myself and consider laying down on my stomach and just giving up on life. I’m halfway there when Harry comes back and plops down next to me, now dressed and ready to go out later.

“Do you have ornaments?” He asks, turning his head to look at me.

I think about it for a moment, and shrug. “We’ve never put a tree up before so no, probably not.”

Harry nods and looks up at the ceiling. “I wish I had mine,” he laments. “All the ones my sister and I made for my mum when we were kids.” There’s a nostalgic glint in his eye and he smiles to himself a bit.

“Do you think if you asked you family would send some?” I ask, hating how sad this is making him.

Harry chuckles a bit and shakes his head. “You keen on getting rid of me, mate?”

“Of course not.” I say a little too quickly.

Harry laughs again and nudges me softly with his shoulder. “If my-they heard a word from me, I’d be right back there where I started.”

“Well we don’t want that.” I sigh.

“No we don’t.” Harry agrees.

He still seems sad about it though, so after a moments hesitation, I speak again. “Maybe one day, after you turn eighteen, we can take you and you can get some of your things. Would you like that?”

It’s obvious Harry thinks about it for a moment, before just shaking his head. “I don’t think so. Thank you Lou, honestly, but I just don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

Harry shakes his head again and closes his eyes, saying nothing. I wait for him to speak again, but he doesn’t, and I’m almost positive he’s fallen asleep. I roll over on my side and watch him, tracing over his profile with my eyes until I have to stop because he’s grinning at me and his eyes are open again.

“Stop staring at my big nose.” He says, but there’s no damper on his grin.

“It is not big.” I laugh.

Harry nods and pokes his nose as if to show me. “It’s huge, Lou.”

Propping myself up on my elbow, I take a closer look. “Well it isn’t small, but it’s cute Haz. Fits you.” I reach over to his nose and tweak it, making Harry squeak and throwing me into a fit of laughter.

“Go away!” Harry groans, pulling away from my hand. He rolls onto his stomach and throws a pillow over his head so only a few stray curls and his bright green eyes are visible from where I am. I can tell he’s smiling though, so I smile back.

“You’re such a child.”

Harry gasps loudly and his arms snake out to start hitting me. I grab for his wrists, laughing at his onslaught, until the faded phone number on his right palm catches my eyes. He must notice me staring at it because he jerks his hands away from mine and sits up, knocking the pillow off his head.

“I remember what you did last night.” Harry says. His eyes are completely serious and I know we’re no longer playing around.

“Do we really have to talk about this?” I sigh.

Harry frowns at me. “Yes we do. What happened?” When I raise my eyebrows he sighs. “I mean, why did you do that?”

“He was too old for you.”

“He was twenty.”

“That’s still old!” I shoot back.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on Lou. You’re going to be twenty in a few days.”

“I’m not trying to get into your pants, though.”

“Aren’t you?”

My eyes go wide at this and Harry just smirks to himself like the smug piece of shit he is. Well, two can play at that game I guess.

“Is that what you think?” I ask, innocently. To my delight, Harry is speechless. I smile and brush a curl across his forehead, stopping only to thumb over his cheekbones. “Someone’s quite full of himself, hmm?” Before he can open his mouth a stutter something out, I’m standing up and walking out of the living room to go take a shower.

It’s when I’m being pelted by hot water that I realize how much of an arse I’m being. All Harry wants is an explanation, right? So why can’t I give him one instead of playing around with him? The worst part is I know exactly why, and it’s because of the little voice in my head that practically sets off an alarm anytime I’m near Harry.

When I emerge from the steam filled bathroom, I hear Zayn calling my name from his room. I lean on the doorway and cringe when I see how concerned he looks already. “Did you say something to Haz?”

“Why?”

He sighs and shrugs. “He’s really beat up about something, mate,” Zayn says. “Maybe go talk to him? See what’s wrong?”

Liam and Harry are both on the couch when I walk in slowly, Harry tucked under Liam’s arm. They both turn to look at me and I stop abruptly when I see how sad Harry looks and how much Liam resembles a protective mother bear holding onto her cub.

“Hello Louis.” Liam says. Yeah, I’m definitely in trouble.

“Hi,” I say slowly, afraid anything that comes out of my mouth my set Liam off. “Hi Haz.”

Harry turns his head away from me and nuzzles it closer to Liam’s side. Liam gives me a reproachful look and nods towards the younger boy, obviously telling me how I’m such a shit friend to him. He finally turns back as well and whispers something to Harry, who nods back and sits all the way up again. Liam ruffles his curls and stands up, whispering “Talk to him” as he passes me on his way out of the room. I mime choking myself but Liam doesn’t even spare me an amused glance. No one appreciates good theater these days.

Harry is still staring straight ahead at the tv when I sit down gingerly at his side. “What’s the matter, babe?” I ask, trying to keep my tone light.

He shrugs and crosses his arms tighter over the pillow he’s already pulled up to his chest. “Nothing’s the matter.” He says, but his voice cracking tells me otherwise.

“Yeah?” I raise an eyebrow at him. “You sure about that?”

“Hundred percent.” Harry says, enunciating the t and still staring at the cartoon on the telly.

I groan and drop my hands down in defeat, finally getting him to turn away from the tv and look at me. “Harry, come on. Can’t you just talk to me?”

“No Lou, I don’t think I can,” Harry sighs. “Because I know you don’t want to hear what I have to say to you, so what’s the point?”

“Is this still about last night?” I ask, sounding like a complete idiot because of course it’s about last night. Harry shrugs and brings the pillow up to cover his mouth and I suspect he might even be chewing it nervously. “Haz, I’m really sorry. That was completely out of line and I shouldn’t have done it. I guess I’m just protective of you?”

Out of all the lies I’ve told him, and trust me there are a lot, that has to be the worst one. The only reason I stepped in at all last night was because of my own selfishness and jealousy. I couldn’t deal with the sight of someone else touching and kissing Harry, because I want to be touching and kissing Harry. I’m just hoping he doesn’t think that far into it.

“I can take care of myself,” Harry snaps, his voice cold. “You know, before you came along I was taking care of myself perfectly fine for months, even before that too. I don’t need you treating me like a child, Louis.”

“You shouldn’t have to take care of yourself like that anymore, I want to take care of you!” I can’t help myself from saying it and as soon as it’s out of my mouth, there’s silence. The two of us stare at each other, equally shocked, and I find it almost eerily similar to last night when I told James that Harry was mine. I really need to get my mouth and mind in check with one another.

Harry breaks the silence by awkward clearing his throat and reaching for my hand. “Louis is this…is this about your teacher?”

“What the fuck?” I pull my hand away, caught so off guard that all I can think of to say is; “What the fuck, Harry? Why would you even bring that up?!”

“Well if it isn’t, why does it matter who I sleep with? Why does it matter how old he is?”

“Because Harry, you’re my friend and I don’t want to see you get hurt!” I’m yelling now and Harry’s backing away, but I can’t stop myself now. “Is that bad, that I care about what happens to you? Is it bad that you’re my friend and I love you and I want to help you?”

Harry keeps trying to back away from me but he’s hit the arm of the couch and now is just staring at me, eyes wide and shaking. “I’m sorry Louis, I didn’t mean to. I’m s-sorry.”

It takes far too long before it hits me why Harry’s shaking and I want to cry because he is absolutely terrified. Of me.

I suck in a breath and reach for him but he flinches back, his eyes flitting from my hands to my face. “Oh, Haz. Harry, babe, I’m not going to hurt you I promise. I’m so sorry I yelled at you.”

“M’sorry.” He murmurs again.

When I reach for him this time, he still flinches, but eventually crawls forward across the couch and wraps his arms around my torso. I sigh, content that he isn’t crying or hiding from me because of how badly I scared him. “Don’t apologize, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have yelled at you Harry, I know you hate it.”

“Please, I don’t wanna fight with you,” he whispers. “Wanna be happy.”

I laugh and kiss the top of his head softly, counting it as an accomplishment when he doesn’t flinch away from me. “Okay. Let’s be happy then, love.”

Harry moves his arms from my waist to my neck. “Can we go get the tree now?”

“Yeah. No clue how we’re getting it home though. Might have to make you carry it with your giant arms.”

Harry giggles and pokes me in the stomach. “Let’s just call Nick and ask to use his car. You can drive, right?”

I cringe at the thought of owing Nick Grimshaw anything. “It’s probably some stupid hipster relic of a vehicle,” I mumble. “With a fucking record player attached to the dash, I bet.”

Harry pulls away and wrinkles his nose at me, and I want so badly to kiss him right now. “Don’t be an arse about it, Lou. Gimme your phone, I’ll call and promise him I won’t let you hurt it.” I roll my eyes but pull my phone from my pocket anyway, passing it off to him. Harry smiles and kisses me on the cheek as a thank you, before rolling off me and tapping around on my phone. I stare at him for a moment with my hand over the spot he kissed, which I swear is warmer than any other part of me.

I’m brewing coffee-because I know for a fact I’m going to need all the energy I can get to keep up with Harry today-when said hyper boy comes bouncing into the kitchen grinning from ear to ear. Nick isn’t home he says, which I think is a blessing in and of itself, but apparently Harry has a key to the flat so we just need to go grab the car keys and we’re good to go.

“I told him you’re a great driver so he shouldn’t even worry about it.”

I snort and shake my head. “Babe, I’m a horrible driver.”

“Yes, well Nick doesn’t need to know that,” Harry decides. He sees me stirring milk into my coffee and _ooh_ ’s softly. “Make a thermos too, could you?” I don’t have the heart to tell him no, and so I end up picking up Nick Grimshaw’s car with Harry bundled up in his coat and shivering with excitement and caffeine.

We stop to get the ornaments first because it’s closest and Harry absolutely loses his mind about it. He decides right away that everything has to match and our theme is Winter Wonderland. I don’t even get the chance to tease him for having a theme before he’s ordering me around the store and my arms are full of ornaments, sparkling lights, and tinsel. By the time he decides we’re done I’m pretty sure I’m dusted in a fine coat of silver glitter that’s never going to come off.

I’m intent on getting the hell out of here when Harry finds the section of specialty ornaments and starts squealing like a little girl. “Lou! Louis, look!” He laughs, shoving an ornament in my face.

I reach for it and snort out laugh. “Haz, I’m pretty sure this is for married couples.” It’s pretty of course, a small, silver dusted Christmas tree with two birds hanging in the middle, but the ribbon running through it says  _Our First Christmas_  in a fancy cursive font.

Harry pouts, actually pouts, sticking his plump lower lip as far out as it will go. “But Lou, don’t you think it’s cute?” He drags out my name sadly, like me denying him this ornament would be the worst thing to ever happen to him.

Unable to stand that face any longer, I snatch the ornament out of his hand and add it to the pile. “Fine, fine. Let’s go before you buy the whole store.”

Harry smiles. “Thank you, Lou. I knew you’d like it.” He tilts forward on his toes to kiss me on the cheek before skipping away. I really wish he’d cut that out.

“I hope you know I’m expecting at least a dozen Christmas cookies in exchange for the fact I’ll never get all this glitter out of my fringe.” I mutter as the cashier rings us up. He just smiles and shakes his curls around so another shiny cloud of glitter falls onto me. I roll my eyes and watch Harry pay for the decorations while the cashier makes moon eyes at him. Harry just grins back at her, apparently oblivious to how she seems to trip over her own feet when he says hello.

“When was the last time you actually decorated a tree?” I ask once we’re walking back to the car.

Harry thinks about it, before shrugging his shoulders. “Properly? Since before my mother died. I miss doing this, she always had some silly theme she’d do for us.”

I stumble a bit and Harry steadies me with a hand on my elbow, but I’m too shocked to thank him. “Harry, why didn’t you tell me about that?”

“I didn’t think it was important.” Harry mutters bashfully.

“Not important-Harry! How could you think something like that isn’t important?”

Harry lets go of my elbow so we can keep walking, and doesn’t make eye contact with me when he starts talking. “It was a long time ago. She got sick when I was a kid and died a few months after my eighth birthday and it isn’t like…it’s not that big of a deal.”

It’s obvious he doesn’t want me to tell him how sorry I am, so I don’t, and I definitely don’t scold him for saying it isn’t a big deal. Instead, I keep my mouth shut for once in my life, but only until we’re driving again. “You know you can tell me this stuff, don’t you?” I take my eyes off the road for a moment just to gauge his reaction. “I mean, christ, you know one of the worst things about me and I-”

“Do you remember like, the very first week I stayed and we watched Aladdin together,” Harry interrupts. “And you told me you’d tell me your three wishes once you knew me better?”

I laugh. “Haz, I was just being a twat. Do you want my three wishes, because I can think of them right now if you’d like.”

Harry wrinkles his nose and it’s obvious he’s trying not to laugh at me. “No, you’re missing the point. I want to tell you things, I want you to know me better. It’s going to take a little while but if you just…you kind of have to be patient, I guess. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I reach across the center console to run my thumb over the back of his hand gently. “Nick um…he was just telling me that you kind of went through a lot. I just want you to know I’m here if you need me to be.”

Harry freezes and slowly pulls his hand away from mine. “What did Nick tell you?” He asks, his voice low and expression unreadable.

I frown, thinking back to my last unfortunate conversation with Nick, and shrug. “Nothing, really, just what I said. He said he wouldn’t tell me anything you hadn’t already.”

Harry nods shortly and turns to the look out the window. “Well I doubt you want to hear me whine about my shitty childhood, Lou.” His joke falls flat but I chuckle a bit anyway to indulge him.

“I think I’d listen to you ‘whine’ about anything, as long as it were you talking.”

Harry laughs and finally turns so I can see his eyes again. “How sweet. I feel special.”

“Well, you should.”

Harry grins and it doesn’t leave his face until we reach what is apparently the North Pole transfered to just outside London. He takes of like a shot before I even turn the car off, darting through the trees much to the amusement of everyone else there.

“Haz!” I call, looking around the rows of trees until I spot a familiar pair of green eyes and dimple. “Don’t let me lose you to the trees, love.”

“You aren’t losing me to anything,” Harry giggles. He reaches for my hand and pulls me forward between two trees, causing needles to spray down on me. I groan but Harry grins, stopping be from brushing them away. “You look like Christmas, Lou.”

“Well good, that’s what I was going for.” I roll my eyes but make no move to let go of Harry’s hand, and neither does he. Biting back my smile, I turn to look at the small tree in front of us and shrug. “So, this one then?”

Harry looks at me like I’m insane. “You don’t pick the first tree you see!” He gasps.

“Who has done this before, you or me?”

“Well you suck at it,” Harry says so bluntly that my laugh turns into a snorting cough. “I bet your sisters picked the tree out for you, they sound like a reasonable bunch.” With this, he pulls me away from the small tree and into the maze of firs and spruces. I gladly follow.

Apparently, well at least according to Harry, I am  _the worst Christmas tree in the history of like, ever_.Everything I pick seems to be  _too_ something; too big, too small, too fat, too skinny, too full, too sparse. I eventually just give up and let him drag me around as he considers them all, until he stops and gasps quietly. In front of us is the epitome of the perfect Christmas tree, the kind you see in windows in movies with their lights all done up and perfectly wrapped presents underneath.

“Oh, Lou,” he whispers, sounding breathless. “It’s perfect.”

I smile and squeeze his fingers. “Well then it’s yours.”

Harry turns and grins at me. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, babe. Of course.”

Harry bites his lip and turns back to the tree, giving it another short once over, before nodding. “It’s ours.”

Harry and the man who sells us the tree strap it to the top of Nick’s car carefully, and I find myself hoping it scratches the paint just a bit. Harry thanks the man around a thousand times and takes the stand for the tree gratefully, nodding like an apt pupil while the man explains how to take care of it. I just smile fondly and finally hand over the cash once Harry gets back in the car.

“Fifty percent.” The man says when I go to pay him.

I raise an eyebrow, still holding the notes out towards him. “Excuse me?”

He nods towards the car, towards Harry especially, and smiles. “You’re a cute couple, you remind me a lot of my wife and I when we were kids. So, half off the price,” My mouth hangs open and I don’t move, so he reaches for the money himself and counts it out, putting the rest back in my palm. “Happy Christmas, yeah?”

I cough, trying to get my voice back, and nod. “Um, yeah, cheers. Happy Christmas.” I give him a short nod and dart back to the car, my cheeks practically burning by now.

“Niall called your phone and said we’re taking too long so they’re going out for dinner.”

I nod, still too stunned by what’s just happened to say anything except, “Alright.”

“What was that back there?” Harry asks. I turn and look at him, his arms wrapped around the tree stand, fingertips playing together. When he sees me staring, he grins, his eyes almost perfectly matching the color of the trees behind us. “What?”

“He thought you were adorable and gave me a discount.” I lie.

Harry’s eyes widen. “No he did not.”

“Yes he did, fifty percent off just because you looked like a cute little kid in a candy store.”

“Shutup,” Harry bites his lip and turns away. “Just…no. Shutup. Drive.”

When I laugh he pulls the container closer to himself and mumbles something else, probably just telling me to shutup again. “He thought we were a couple.” I tell him between chuckles.

“You didn’t correct him?” Harry asks, his voice strange.

I shake my head. “I got a discount. Besides, I could do worse.” I give him an over dramatic once over and he blushes an even deeper red than he was already.

“Shutup, Louis.”

I finally pull out of the parking lot, trying not to laugh. “Harold,” I scold. “Watch what you say, Santa’s watching, you know. Are you looking to be put on the naughty list young man?” Harry reaches out to hit me with a gloved hand and curls up further in his seat.

Somehow the two of us wrangle the tree up to our flat with minimal damage to both ourselves and the building. The tree, of course, is fine since Harry is protecting it like it’s his damn child or something. We aren’t in the flat hardly half a second before he’s ordering me around for water and the decorations. I help him fluff the branches down, getting needles all over the ground and ourselves in the process, until Harry seems satisfied.

“This tree is gonna be beautiful, you just watch.” He tells me with a fierce determined look that I can’t help but smile back at.

“I have absolutely no doubt in your abilities. Lights first?”

I’m trying to untangle the lights when I notice Harry holding one end and smiling mischievously. “Don’t you dare-Harry!” Is all I scream out before he’s wrapping the lights around me and laughing like a maniac. Apparently, this is absolutely hilarious to him. So absolutely hilarious that he feels the need to take pictures with my phone and send them to everyone in my contacts list.

Harry’s laughing the entire time he’s sending out the pictures and I have no clue how he’s even still breathing by the time I free myself and leap at him, knocking him over onto the air mattress and straddling his stomach.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Harry laughs, trying to push me off. “You’re just so small.”

I shriek and try to hit him for that remark but he stops me by grabbing my wrists. “I am not small!” I yell, kicking at his sides with my feet.

“Yes you are, you’re tiny!” Harry wraps his hand all the way around my wrist and shows me. “I want to wrap you up in lights and hang you on the tree as the star.”

I shake my head and pull my hands back, punching him lightly on the chest. “I hate you.”

Harry shakes his head, his dimple showing. “No you don’t.”

Unable to help myself, I poke my finger in his dimple and shake my head right back. “You’re right, I don’t.”

I roll off him and this time we actually wrap the lights around the tree and not myself. After fighting with the outlets a bit, it finally lights up and we move on to the ornaments, which are all different shades of silver and blue. Harry has a plan set out apparently to fit his theme, and helps me to set the ornaments up strategically, until there’s just the last cheesy couple one and the star left.

“Doesn’t really look right,” I mutter, watching as he hangs the ornament right in the center amidst the glittering branches of the tree. “The birds are clashing with your Winter Wonderland.”

“I don’t care,” Harry says to me, with a brilliant grin. “I love it.”

I smile back and take the star when he hands it to me to put on the top. It was always a big thing in my house growing up, who got to put the star at the top of the tree. We used to pull a name from a hat and I’d lift the youngest girls up on my shoulders to place it carefully, though Mum would always come back and discreetly fix it when no one was looking. I wince at the sharp pang of nostalgia in my stomach as I look down at the star in my hands. It’s is beautiful of course, but it isn’t mine. It isn’t the star that my grandmother’s grandmother’s had, it isn’t the one my dad used to let me put up back when he was around, it isn’t the one I helped Daisy put up the last time I ever had a family Christmas.

“Lou, let me help.” Harry says.

I turn to him, and back to the star, and nod. He grins and puts his hands on my waist so he can lift me just enough so that I can put the star at the very top of the tree. When I come back down, Harry’s arms move to circle my waist and I sigh softly. I tilt my head so I can see the lights from the tree sparkling back in his eyes and illuminating his face in a soft glow. His smile is infectious, as always, and so I find myself smiling back.

So yeah, maybe the tree isn’t the one from back home that’s covered in homemade ornaments complements of my sisters and I, and the star is far too new and has no history other than a trip from the factory to the store, but I’m not in that home anymore. This is my home now, and at some point everything’s new so who knows, maybe Harry or I will use this star next Christmas too, or pass it on to someone else, but either way I still love it. I feel very at home with Harry’s arms around me, and happier than I’ve been in a long while, and the nagging in the back of my brain yelling _wrongwrongwrong_  is hardly noticed when I’m looking up at the Christmas lights twinkling in Harry’s eyes.

“It’s ours.” I whisper, mimicking what Harry said only a few hours earlier.

He grins and squeezes me a bit tighter, resting his chin on my shoulder. “It’s not perfect,” Harry whispers back. “But yeah, Lou. It’s ours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments and kudos!!
> 
> tumblr: amoryfics


	13. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so, so sorry for how late this is. I got sick but I’m better now and hopefully that doesn’t happen again, yuck.

An incessant ringing startles me awake. I groan and peek my head up, looking around for the source of the sound, before realizing it’s coming from across the room on Louis’ nightstand. I’m about to leave it and go back to sleep when I remember it’s Louis’ birthday.

I dart from Niall’s bed, which I stole almost the minute he left a few days ago, to Louis’ nightstand to pick the phone up. “Hello?” I whisper, sneaking out of the room and into the hallway. There’s no answer, only sniffling and what sounds like heavy breathing. “Hello? Is someone there?”

“Is Louis there?” A soft voice, a girl’s voice I realize, questions through the tinny speakers.

I frown, reaching back to shut Louis’ door behind me so as not to disturb him. “No, he’s still sleeping I’m afraid. I could take a message?”

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called.” The girl says quickly.

“Are you sure?”

There’s no answer, just the clicking of the person on the other line hanging up. I frown down at the phone, wondering who on earth could be calling this early, before shrugging and leaving the phone on the table as I walk into the kitchen.

It’s still too early for Louis’ to be up, so I start making his breakfast to distract me. My sister always brought me breakfast in bed for my birthday and I’d do the same for her, and I have no intentions of breaking that tradition anytime soon. I sent Louis grocery shopping alone yesterday so I could secretly make him his cake, so the fridge is stocked all the food I need. Granted it’s not exactly the food I sent him out for, but as Louis said when he came back with a few bags and a pounding headache, at least nobody died.

When I come back to the room with a plate full of pancakes and almost every side you could imagine, Louis is still asleep. My heart warms and I smile when his face comes into view, pressed against a pillow with his hair fluffed up around his head. He looks a bit like a hedgehog, I think fondly.

“Lou,” I sing-song. “Wake up old man, it’s your birthday.”

Louis groans and shakes his head against his pillow. “Go away.”

I put the food down on his nightstand and climb up onto the bed, sitting on his chest and laughing when he lets out a loud  _oomph_. “No, I can’t go away. You need to wake up so we can celebrate.”

Louis rolls over as best he can with me still sitting on his chest, and frowns up at me. “Hello Harry.”

“Hi birthday boy.” I smile. He looks adorable like this, grumpy and soft from sleep, wearing yet another one of my stolen jumpers and practically swimming in it.

Louis cracks and smile and shakes his head at me. “Get off me you sentimental freak, I’m tired.”

“No, it’s your birthday!” A ridiculous giggle bubbles out of my lips. I lean down over him and kiss him once on each cheeks. I’ve taken to doing that a lot lately, just because it’s as close as I’m ever going to get to his lips, I figure.

“Fine,” Louis huffs out a sigh but I still see his smile there. “Kindly get off me, so I can eat this beautiful breakfast you’ve prepared for me?”

I grin and scoot back onto the bed so Louis can sit up. He looks over to the bedside table and stares at the plate of food. “It’s your birthday breakfast in bed.” I tell him, just in case he hasn’t gotten it already.

“Thank you, love.”

Past the point of caring whether or not I look like an absolute crazy person, I beam at him. “I hope you like it.”

“Of course I’ll like it, you made it.” Louis reasons. I bite my lips and turn away so he can’t see my blushing, but he catches it. He chuckles and reaches over to place his hand on the back of my neck, running his thumb over my skin softly. Goosebumps rise along the path he’s made with his thumb and I wonder if he notices. \ “You’re too cute for your own good sometimes, Haz.”

I scratch at my curls and just shrug, choosing not to say anything. After slipping on his glasses, much to my delight, Louis eats slowly, and it’s obvious from his face that he likes it. Eventually he cuts a piece of a half eaten pancake and holds it up to my mouth, laughing when I eat it right off his fork. I smile back.

“Someone called,” I tell him, through a mouthful of syrup and pancakes. “It was a girl.”

“A girl?” Louis’ eyebrows shoot up. “I wonder what girl. As you know, Harold, I am quite the ladies man.”

I roll my eyes and stand up, leaving him on the bed while I go get his phone. When I toss it back to him, he looks at the unlisted number and frowns. “That’s weird. Did she say anything?”

“I asked if she wanted to leave a message, she said no,” I shrug. “She asked for you, though.”

Louis shrugs as well and tosses his phone to the other end of the bed nonchalantly. “Maybe she’ll call back”

“I hope you don’t mind I answered it,” I say, suddenly afraid he does mind. “I didn’t want it to wake you up.”

He rolls his eyes at me and pokes my ribs affectionately. “Harry, honestly, I think we’ve passed the point where you have to ask to use my phone.”

 _I know that,_  I want to say.  _But at the same time I feel like soon you’re going to realize you don’t want me around._

“I still feel like I’m taking advantage.” I say instead. Louis sees me about to lay down and shakes his head, motioning for me to lean my head on his shoulder.

“Don’t think like that,” He says simply. “I want you here, the boys want you here, and therefore you are not taking advantage. Have some more pancakes, love. You’re so skinny.” He murmurs the last part, like I’m not supposed to hear, but I do.

“M’fine.” I complain.

Louis passes me the plate anyway so I can feed myself. He gives me a stern look until I relent and finish what’s left of his pancakes. “I just worry about you, you know?” He tells me.

“Why?”

“I just do.” Louis’ light blue eyes practically dare me to keep prying, so I shake my head at him.

“You shouldn’t.”

He mocks me in a deep voice that sounds nothing like my own, and I hate that I find it so cute. There are a lot of things about Louis that I find cute, but the things about him that I find attractive is an even longer list and it grows by the day. Unfortunately.

“No way, birthday boy.” I laugh when Louis attempts to take my empty plate from me, presumably to go and clean it.

“Ugh, stop reminding me.” Louis moans. “What a stupid thing to celebrate! I didn’t even do anything I just…happened.” He makes a motion with his hands, pushing from his stomach out, and I assume that is supposed to be him being born.

“And so he was born,” I choke out through laughter. “Louis Tomlinson. A god amongst men.” I mime his “birth” action and leave him on the bed, cackling. I can still hear him laughing even from the kitchen.

Hearing him laugh because of me is definitely on both lists.

Deciding not to waste anymore time, I start on our Louis Birthday/Christmas dinner by lugging the giant ham out of the fridge and setting it on the counter to stare at. Louis pads in only moments later, his socked feet shushing against the floor tiles. He squeezes my hip softly like he always does, just to show me he’s there, and rests his chin on my shoulder.

“Christ, Haz,” He laughs when he sees the ham. “I thought it was only us two.”

“Niall came with me when I bought it.”

Louis nods sagely. “Ah. Rookie mistake.”

I smile and cut the package the ham comes in carefully, trying not to jostle Louis’ too much. I like him pressed to me like this, even though he’s smaller than me I feel safer this way. “He wants there to be enough left for him to eat when he comes back, he told me.” I say, trying to keep my voice even and without emotion.

Louis giggles and wraps his arms around my waist tightly. “Going to make me a proper Christmas dinner, my little housewife?” He laughs into my ear.

“I am not a housewife.” I move from my place at the counter to grab a large pot and Louis holds on, walking behind me and not letting go.

“Maybe, if you’re a very good boy, Santa will bring you an apron that says ‘Kiss The Cook’ for Christmas.” Louis purrs.

I knock him away gently, if only just to clear my head without him invading all my senses. “Get off me, you twat.”

Louis doesn’t move. In fact, I’m pretty sure he actually holds me tighter. “You know, most people have Christmas dinner on Christmas.” He whispers, his breath tickling my ear.

“We’re combining,” I smile, swatting at his head. “It’s your Christmas and birthday dinner and I’m not just saying that because Niall made me spend practically my whole life savings on this ham.”

He throws his head back and laughs, giving my waist one more quick squeeze. A small laugh bursts through my lips as well, just because Louis is laughing and I can’t help myself. He lets me go and disappears into the living room, leaving behind only the echo of his laughter and a strangely cold space where he was pressed up against me.

I figure Louis must have taken a shower because I’m just about done getting the ham into the oven when I finally hear rustling from the living room. Louis has been sort of a child about the whole Christmas tree thing, meaning he refuses not to stop touching it. So far Zayn has caught him each time, gratefully  _before_  his curiosity could cause any major damage, and so far I have refused to let myself find it cute as it is.

“Tomlinson, you better not be touching my tree!” I call.

The rustling gets louder and there’s the unmistakable sound of a glass ornament shattering, followed by Louis’ hushed swearing. I hate myself for the dopey smile that sneaks its way onto my face while I grab the broom and dust pan.

Louis is hopping around the living room, trying to avoid the broken glass, and swearing profusely. “I didn’t touch it!” he defends as soon as he sees me. “I just…bumped it, is all.”

_You’re a walking disaster and I want to kiss you so badly right now._

I push my thoughts away and hand him the broom. “Be careful, please don’t step on it,” I say, trying to keep my voice stern. “We don’t need a visit to A&E on your birthday, alright?”

Louis gives me a brilliant smile, the kind that just screams trouble. “What a beautiful little housewife, look how useful you are!”

I’m about to leave the room when something catches my eye. There, under the Christmas tree, are two presents sloppily wrapped in silver gift wrap with bows on top. Louis catches me looking and grins proudly, gesturing towards them with the broom.

“M’not as stealthy as Father Christmas, am I?”

“You got me presents.” I breathe.

Louis nods, tilting his head slightly in confusion. “Of course I did,” he laughs. “It’s Christmas.”

I bite my lip, my eyes drifting back to the presents. “I know s’just…no one else besides my sister has ever gotten me anything before and not for awhile. A long time, actually.” My sister tried to get me presents for Christmas every year, she always did, but even working two jobs combined with my job as well, sometimes there just wasn’t enough. I never cared though, because as long as she was around I really didn’t mind not getting presents.

Louis, however, sees this as a major problem.

“Oh, Haz,” He drops the broom right on the floor and steps towards me, squeezing my hand before pulling me into a hug. “This is our dysfunctional Christmas, yeah? It’s going to be perfect, I’m going to take care of everything. Even the present you’ve been trying to hide in  _my_ suitcase.”

“You weren’t supposed to know about that!” I whine, thinking of the present buried under my clothes. Liam had helped me pick it out a few days before he Zayn, and Niall all left to go home, and I wrapped it as neatly as possible and hid it, though obviously not well, from Louis’ curious eyes.

Louis chuckles and pulls away. He doesn’t look at all ashamed for his snooping, not that I really expected him to. “It’s not my fault you hid it in your jumpers, idiot.” He shoots back.

“It’s not my fault you steal my jumpers.”

Louis seems to think about this for a moment. It probably doesn’t help that he happens to be wearing another one of my jumpers right now. Finally, he reaches up and brushes a stray curl over my forehead, stopping to tweak my ear. “Your jumpers are bigger and warmer than mine. That  _is_  your fault.” His voice is strangely soft and affectionate and I can’t help but to smile back and knock my head towards his fingertips.

He cleans the broken glass up with minimal damage to both himself and the tree, miraculously, while I put my present for him under the tree and stare at it. I’ll be the first to admit it’s probably a little weird, us spending such a huge holiday together after only knowing each other a few weeks, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. If someone had told me just a few months ago that I’d be sitting here with someone like Louis, feeling happy, safe, and loved, I would have said they were insane. And yet here I am.

Louis practically attacks me on the couch, landing on my stomach and grinning at me. “Hey Harry. let’s cuddle and watch  _Love Actually_.” He jumps back up as soon as I nod and makes me a cup of tea as well as one of his own. I thank him and let him cuddle up close to me on the couch, his back pressed to my front.

“This was my sister’s favorite movie.” I sigh while Louis clicks through the menu to start it.

He reaches for my hand as if he knows I need it, and at this point I wonder if he does. I’m actually convinced Louis can sense it when I need to be comforted or cuddled because he’s always there, whether it’s with a hand on my hip or his fingers squeezing mine like they are now, or even just kind words that he murmurs in my ear. Perhaps before I came here I would have hated how touchy-feely Louis is towards me, but now I’m not quite sure how I ever got along without it.

“What happened to your sister, Harry?” Louis whispers.

I lay my head down flat against the couch, staring down at the pattern of it. My immediate instinct is to lie to him, say something like  _She’s back home with the rest of my family_ , but then I remember the promise I made to both myself and Louis. I want to open up to him more, I want him to know me better, if only to give us the chance to become closer. So, I suck in a breath and let it out slowly before answering him.

“She died,” I murmur. “A few months before I ranaway.” It may not be the whole truth but it still feels like an insurmountable weight has been lifted off my chest.

Louis exhales slowly and for a brief moment it almost looks like he’s breathing for me. He puts his cup of tea down next to mine on the coffee table and turns around carefully so he’s facing me, his hands fisted in my shirt. “Harry,” he says, his voice genuinely sad. “Harry, love, I am so sorry.”

I shrug and try to wipe at the tears welling up in my eyes but Louis stops me. He lifts his hands from my shirt to my cheeks and brushes the tears away for me, so much gentler than I would have. “I just. I want to make her proud, you know?” I laugh softly. “She took care of me for so long and I know it sounds stupid, but I want to show her she did the best job raising me she could have for just being a kid herself.”

Louis’ blue eyes stare into mine and he drops his hands back to my shirt, tugging me closer, so close our noses almost touch. “That is  _not_ stupid. She would be so proud of you, I know she would-” he stops himself, and then shakes his head. “No. She is proud of you Harry, so proud. Look at yourself! She did a fantastic job raising you and if she were here now, I would thank her a million times for making my Harry so fantastic.”

“Gemma,” I croak out through the tears that are now falling relentlessly. “Her name’s Gemma.”

Louis smiles and wraps his arms around my neck so he can snuggle close to my chest, which I’m guessing is supposed to be a hug. “I bet Gemma was beautiful and strong and brave. Like you?” I just nod, not in the mood to try to argue with the comparison. Louis sighs, his breath tickling my neck. “Oh, Haz. I wish I could have met her.”

I laugh a bit at the thought of Gemma and Louis. Both trouble makers, both hilarious and yet so caring at the same time. That would have been something to see. “She would have loved you.”  _Just like I love you._ That thought scares me a bit, but I don’t have time to think on it because Louis’ laughter starts up.

“Of course she would have loved me. It is impossible not to love me, Styles.” His voice is thick and I realize that he’s tearing up as well.

“Yeah,” I smile down at him. “It kind of is.”

Louis pokes at my dimple and turns back around, staying silent for the rest of the movie, but not separating our hands for the duration. I don’t mind either of course, even if that means I have to drink my tea with my opposite hand and it’s a bit awkward, his hand is still in mine and I wouldn’t change that for anything.

“Our flat smells like ham.” Louis announces, halfway through the movie he’d put on after  _Love Actually_. It’s something emotional about a dog or something…I think. I wasn’t paying attention to that though, I was too busy focusing on how Louis’ stomach rhythmically rises and falls under our connected hands and how cuddly he looks in my jumper and his glasses.

I stretch a bit, cracking my back and reluctantly pulling my hand from his. “Yeah, it’s supposed to. Let me out.”

“What, why?” Louis asks, sounding appalled at the idea that I might want to stand up after laying here for hours.

“I have to check your dinner, princess ,” I laugh. “I’ll be back.”

He pouts. “Don’t leave me!” Louis cries dramatically. “You’re so warm and cuddly, like a kitten.”

I roll my eyes and walk away, ignoring his cackling laughter and the blush creeping its way over my cheeks. The ham is fine, thank God, so I start on the sides that Louis insisted he have along with his ham. I’ve never actually cooked a ham, honestly, Gemma always preferred turkey, so there’s actually a good chance this could all go scarily awry. I tell Louis that, yelling from the kitchen to the living room, and he chuckles.

“I have full faith in you, Haz.”

_Someone has to._

It takes Louis a record five minutes to find his way to the kitchen and wrap himself around me. “You don’t mind this, right?” He asks when he sees me laughing at him. His voice is a little doubtful and I hate that.

“Of course I don’t mind,” I say, reaching for his hand that rests just over my waist. “Why would I mind?”

Louis shrugs. “You weren’t really…cuddly when we first met. You kind of flinched whenever one of us would even get close to you.”

I hesitate with my answer, unsure of what to say. “I trust you now,” I say, carefully. “I trust you and the boys a lot, actually.”

“Good.” Louis simply smiles against the back of my neck. I smile back.

A few hours later both Louis and I are sitting on the floor of the living room in front of the Christmas tree where my air mattress usually is, plates piled high with food and sitting in our laps. Apparently hearing that I trusted him gave Louis the confidence to stick as close to me as possible for the rest of the night. Now he sits, his plate balanced on his thighs and his head leaning against my shoulder.

“Thank you.” Louis speaks up.

“For what?”

“For not letting me be alone on my birthday,” he shrugs. “Because as much as I’d like to fight you on that, it does suck. A lot.”

Hearing that makes me proud, proud that Louis is happy spending time with me, happy to be hanging out with just me on his twentieth. I reach over and ruffle his hair, making Louis whine and try to swat my hands away from his head.

“Happy birthday, Lou.”

“Merry Christmas.” Louis chuckles back.

We finish eating, knocking our shoulders together every so often and smirking at one another like a couple of school children. When I see his plate is empty as well as mine, I take it from his hands and leave him to sit on the floor and start  _Love Actually_  up again. I leave the dishes in the sink, deciding to leave them until tomorrow, and instead rifle through the fridge until I come out with the cake I’d baked him. Zayn left me candles and a lighter up on top of the fridge away from Louis’ eyes, he’d joked.

I walk into the living room, balancing the small cake with the lit candles and a couple plates and silverware. I flip the lights off as I walk in, causing Louis to stir from his self proclaimed food coma.

“Haz, what are you-oh,” He stops talking when he turns and sees me. I swear his lip quivers a bit but he quickly bites down on it hard and shakes his head. “If you sing to me, I will murder you.”

I put the cake down carefully on the coffee table in front of him, and sit beside Louis on the floor. “I won’t,” I promise him. “Now hurry up and make a wish before the wax drips down to the icing.”

Louis leans forward a bit and inspects the cake. “Harry did you…you made this from me? Like, homemade?” Louis asks, sounding shocked at the idea.

I shrug bashfully. “Yeah. Make a wish, Lou.”

Louis stares at me for a little while longer, almost like he doesn’t believe me. Finally, with my insistence, he turns back to the cake and squeezes his eyes shut. I smile and watch the candlelight go out in the reflection of his glasses. I clap loudly and Louis giggles at me, shaking his head.

“You’re ridiculous.” He mumbles. I smile and kiss him on each cheek, feeling more accomplished than I should when I see he’s blushing.

“What did you wish for?” I ask while I cut him a piece of cake.

Louis takes the plate from me and immediately takes a bite of the chocolate cake. “Oh god, you’re a saint,” he moans. “I wished for the cake to tastes as good as it looked, and my wish came true.”

“Lou.”

Louis smirks at me. “If I tell you it won’t come true, silly boy.” He chides, pointing his chocolate covered fork at me.

I roll my eyes but relent and let him eat his cake in peace so I can too. I’m surprised it tastes as good as it does, considering it’s been sitting in the fridge since yesterday and the fact that haven’t made cake in awhile unless it came from a box. I wanted this to be special though, something I could give to Louis to make up for the fact I didn’t have an actual birthday present for him.

I’m halfway through my second piece of cake when Louis lets out a loud groan and lays out on the floor. “I am twenty,” he groans some more. “I am twenty and fat!” I watch on, amused, as he rubs his hand over his stomach and continues to whine and moan about it.

“You are not fat.” I roll my eyes.

Louis pouts at me and pokes his stomach a few times. “I am now, I ate too much. You made me fat, Harry Styles, and now you’re going to have to marry me.”

“Oh? Is that how that works?” I laugh.

“It is,” Louis sighs. When he sees I have no intentions of pitying him, he pulls himself up off the floor and disappears off into the kitchen. I hear rustling around in there and he soon returns, holding a bottle of cake flavored vodka that looks like it’s already been drunk from and two shot glasses.

“Let’s play a game.” He says.

I bite at my lip, a strange sort of fear bubbling in my stomach. “Louis-”

“Oh, shutup Haz,” Louis sighs. “I’m twenty, it’s my birthday, and we are playing this game.”

“I don’t like you when you’re drunk.”

Louis just smiles at this and sits back down beside me. “Well, I don’t like me when I drink either, so let’s hate me together.” He gives me an overly dramatic wink that does nothing to ease the tension.

“No,” I say, and it’s a challenge. “When you’re drunk you scare me. You say horrible things and you’re nothing like yourself and I don’t like it. As soon as you have a few drinks you aren’t my Louis anymore.”

Louis falters at this. He opens his mouth and shuts it again, looking a bit like a fish, before he clears his throat. “Alright I…alright. We won’t get drunk then, I promise, just tipsy. A cute tipsy, like a couple of teenage girls.”

I sigh, not too pleased with this option either, but relent. It is his birthday, after all. “Fine, what’s the game?”

“Never Have I Ever,” Louis announces with a mischievous grin. “I say something I haven’t done and if you’ve done it, you have to take a shot. It’s more fun with more people, but I figure we’re getting to know each other better, hmm?”

I roll my eyes and grab the bottle from his hands. If we’re drinking, I’m going to at least be in charge of the alcohol. I set the two shot glasses up and fill them moderately, ignoring Louis’ protests for more. “Let’s play,” I say, capping the bottle and holding it to my chest. “Go on, teach me.”

There’s a strange twinkle in Louis’ eyes and I should probably expect it when he says; “Never have I ever kissed a girl.”

“You’re shit.” I groan. Louis cackles and claps his hands like a seal right in my face. He pushes a shot glass towards me. Sighing, I knock it back and cough when it burns my throat. Louis only laughs harder at this. It’s disgusting, tasting nothing of cake and fully of bad decisions.

“Fine, you wanna play that game?” I ask. “Never have I ever slept with Nick Grimshaw.”

Louis stops laughing instantly and it almost feels as though the world has stopped spinning until he speaks again. “How did you know about that?” It’s my turn to laugh now, and I do, raucously so. Louis swipes his shot glass away and downs it, slamming the glass back down and glaring at me. “What did that twat tell you?”

“I guessed,” I can’t help but giggle at how pissed off this is making him. “Just by how he treats you and how you treat him. I was  _right_!”

Louis screws up his face. “I don’t want to talk about it. I was drunk and he was just…there, and I hate him.”

“I can’t believe you slept with Nick.” I laugh. Louis ignores me and I try in vain to mask my jealousy at the thought of Nick getting to touch Louis like I’ll never get to. I make a mental note to ask him about it when I see him next.

“Oh yes, haha, laugh it up Styles.” Louis grumbles. He waits until I’m done laughing before he takes his turn and the game picks up. I reach the point of giggly tipsy after only a few rounds and I think Louis notices, but he doesn’t say anything because he’s tipsy as well. And he was right, this is fun. Extremely fun, actually.

“Never have I ever,” I start. “Never have I ever, ever, ever-is that your phone?”

Louis groans loudly and stands up, swaying slightly and tripping around on his way to get his phone from the kitchen. “Hello, hello!” He shouts when he picks it up. For some reason this is the funniest thing I have ever heard and it sends me into a fit of giggles. Louis drops back down beside me, throwing his arm around my shoulders and hiccuping slightly.

“Hello, you are interrupting a very important game with my most very important person, and now you’re being rude about it!” He slurs, his accent thickened by the vodka.

I reach for the phone myself but stop when I see it’s no longer connected to the call. “They hung up on you!” I gasp, appalled at the idea.

Louis  _tsks_  and shakes his head. “Your generation, my dearest Hazza, are unfortunately a highly disrespectful bunch,” he practically shouts into my ear. “Except for you, my love. I think you are golden.”

“What does that mean?” I laugh, pulling my head away and scrunching my nose up.

Louis shrugs and reaches for the vodka that I’ve been safe guarding. It’s nearly empty now and Louis nods solemnly when I mention that. “One more question and then we’re going to bed and tomorrow there will be presents.”

I had almost forgotten it was Christmas actually, and the idea of Louis opening my gift makes me start laughing all over again. Louis separates from me and slides back a bit so our eyes can meet and it’s all very dramatic and very Louis, I think. He opens the vodka bottle and bops me on the nose with the neck of it, humming quietly.

“Alright,” he says, clearing his throat. “Never have I ever wanted to kiss you as badly as I do right now.” I watch on in disbelief as he grins and takes a sip out of the bottle himself.

“That’s not how the game works.” I murmur, feeling almost sobered by his admission.

Louis tips the bottle towards me again, this time just to my hands. “You haven’t answered the question.”

Gathering up every ounce of strength and bravery Louis insists I have, I take the bottle from his hands and drink what’s left. I look Louis straight in the eye, daring him to move, and he does. He smiles and knocks the bottle away from me, crawling forward on his knees and softly grasping my cheeks in his hands. He doesn’t kiss me, not yet, just watches me. His thumbs brush over my cheekbones so lightly I almost don’t feel it and we’re both breathing heavily.

“God, you’re beautiful Harry,” I shake my head but Louis stops me. “No, you are. I want you so bad, ever since the moment I first saw you.”

With that, Louis leans forward and presses his lips against mine. It’s different from last time, so much different, so much nicer. We’re nowhere near as drunk as Louis was last time and his lips taste of the vodka and my chocolate cake. Louis is a brilliant kisser, I realize, when he isn’t completely drunk and he’s not trying to eat my face off. He holds my face in his hands carefully as though I might break and when he pulls away, he goes back for a few short pecks to my bottom lip that’s already swollen from his own lips.

Finally, after what feels like years, Louis pulls all the way back. For one blissful moment we just smile at one another and I’m content to let Louis hold me and move back in for more kissing. That’s when it comes back to me, his words from just weeks ago, from the last time he’d kissed me.  _It’s never going to happen when I’m sober._

So, like the drunken idiot I am, I start to cry.

“Love? Harry, oh baby, don’t cry,” Louis coos, shaking his head and kissing me once again, looking panicked. “Oh no, please. Please don’t cry, I’m sorry-”

“You don’t want me,” I sniffle, shaking my head and trying to pull back. “You don’t want me, it’s just because you’re drunk.”

Louis’ eyebrows furrow and he sighs. “Oh, Haz. No, is that-you think I don’t want you? You aren’t crying because you didn’t want it?”

“Shutup Louis,” I breathe. “Just shutup, you know I like you. Don’t do this to me.”

Louis stares at me, shocked. “You said you didn’t like me.”

“Because you said you’d only kiss me if you were drunk!” I shout. “I didn’t want to get hurt, so I lied! I didn’t want to pine after you like some idiot, I’m such an idiot, I’m so stupid-mph.”

Louis is kissing me again, and this time he’s laughing. I’m so close to punching him, but lucky for him he explains before I can. “That doesn’t mean I don’t like you too, Haz. Because I do. So much.”

“Then what does it mean?”

Louis closes his eyes and shrugs. “I can’t…Haz, I don’t-”

“We have to talk about this,” I say, sniffling my tears away. “Tomorrow, when we’re sober, we’re talking about this. I don’t want you to push me away again.”

Louis sighs and pulls away. “We’ll talk, love. I promise.”

He waits until I nod before tugging me up to my feet and leading me out of the living room and back into the bedroom. I’m not really surprised when Louis pulls me into his own bed with him and cuddles against my chest, claiming me as his own lifesize body pillow. I just smile and rest my chin over his head and close my eyes.

“My wish was to kiss you,” Louis blurts out. “I think your cake is magic.”

I smile and tug him closer, running my fingers over the back of his neck softly. “It was my plan all along.”

Louis chuckles and rests his head against my shoulder. I can feel his lips moving against my collarbone when he speaks next. “Merry Christmas, Haz. You’re the best present I think I’ve ever gotten.”

“You’re an idiot,” I laugh, but kiss the top of his head anyway. “Merry Christmas, Lou.”

I wait until his breathing slows down to a regular, even pace, before letting myself go to sleep as well, content to have Louis’ warmth and weight as close as it can be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: amoryfics


	14. Chapter 13

I wake up to warm, strong arms holding me and a pair of long legs intertwined with my own. For a moment I wonder if I somehow managed to elude Harry and go out last night, when I remember. I remember Harry crying when I kissed him, how I freaked myself out, thinking I had forced myself onto him, and how he looked at me when he asked me not to push him away again.

I turn back to Harry, looking him over and sighing. He’s smiling softly in his sleep, either still a bit drunk or just happy to be with me, though I’m hoping it’s the latter. I reach up and brush a stray curl behind his ear. 

“Harry,” I murmur. “Harry, love, wake up it’s Christmas.”

He groans and moves away from my hands, ducking his face back. “No.” His sleepy voice protests firmly. 

I smile and push myself up a bit and touch my lips to his as gently as I can. “Wake up.” My lips move against his gently. 

Harry blinks his eyes open, dark evergreen in the morning light, and pulls me closer when he sees my lips pressed to his. “Is this a thing now?” He murmurs.

“Only if you want it to be.” I tell him, firmly. 

“I do,” Harry closes his eyes again and smiles when I start kissing him in short quick bursts. “I really, really do.”

“Good, because I do too.”

I laugh and duck my head under his chin, trying not to think about how long it’s been since I’ve woken up and kissed someone and actually liked it. Too long, I figure, because this feels good. Harry’s hands tracing across my back feel good, his lips feel good,  _I_  feel good, and the little protesting voice in my head is a hardly audible.

“I really want to talk to you,” I whisper to him. “I want you to understand, Haz, but not now. I want you to open your presents now and be happy and not have to deal with my shit all morning.”

Harry sighs deeply, his chest sinking under me and slowly rising back up. “But until then, can I still kiss you?”

“You’re such an idiot,” I laugh. “Come on! Get up, presents! Presents, presents, presents!”

When I pull myself up Harry is smiling at me and looking like the idiot he absolutely is. I roll my eyes but let him kiss me when he leans up for it. As soon as he stops I jump off him and run from my bedroom to the living room. It’s snowing outside and the early afternoon light streaming through the window casts shadows on the walls. I make Harry sit on the floor and wait while I make tea, if only to get to see him stare longingly at his presents.

I return with the tea and smile when I see he’s holding the smaller present in his hands and shaking it slightly, obviously trying to see what’s inside like a child would. Harry sees me coming and stops abruptly, embarrassed, but doesn’t seem to mind too much when I laugh at him for it. 

“We woke up at noon,” He says, taking the tea from my hands so I can sit and wrap and arm around his waist. “Niall would be having a heart attack right now.”

I roll my eyes. “Niall’s a six year old, he probably wakes everyone up at five am by jumping on their beds-”

“And shouting ‘presents, presents, presents’?” Harry smirks.

I elbow him in the ribs and leave him coughing while I grab the larger of the two presents and press it into his hands. “Open it quick, I’m impatient.”

Harry rolls his eyes at me but sets his tea down so he can unwrap the presents. He’s one of those neat people, the kind who slip a finger under the folds of the paper so as not to rip it and slip the present out. It bugs the hell out of me, but I say nothing because it’s Harry and I find it quirky instead of annoying.

There’s a soft _oh_  when Harry finally gets the present out. “It’s a phone,” he says, needlessly. “You got me a phone?” 

I laugh a bit and shrug. “Well, you’re always complaining about taking advantage of my phone and all that bullshit. Besides, I want to be able to bug you as much as possible at work and keep myself entertained.” 

I don’t mention how scared I am Harry might leave one day and I’d have no way of contacting him. I especially don’t mention how much it scares me that on the days he has to come home from work alone the people who used to hurt him might come back and he’d have no way of calling for help. I know they’re irrational thoughts, but I don’t care. 

“Louis, this had to be really expensive.” He turns the phone on and instantly chuckles when he sees I’ve already, graciously, set his background as a picture of myself.

“Not really,” I shrug. “I put it on my plan, so technically I’m paying the bill for now, but if it bugs you that much you can pay me.” 

Harry bites his lip and seems to think it over a second, before nodding. “I’ll pay you.” 

I decide to leave that argument for another day and hand him the other present, which is a bit smaller but it’s my favorite. Harry opens this one just as he did the last one, neat and agonizingly slow. I’m about ready to rip it open for him when he finally lets out a small gasp and falls silent.

Inside is a small silver chain with a silver paper airplane hanging from it. He holds it up and we both watch the light glint off the wings as it spins slightly in the air. Harry exhales slowly and drops the necklace back into the palm of his hand gently.

“It’s-Louis.”

“It reminded me of you,” I blurt out. Harry watches while I reach for it and unsnap the clasp, motioning for him to turn so I can slip it on his neck. “I don’t really know why but I just…I saw it and all I could think of was ‘That’s kind of like Haz’ and-”

“Louis,” I look up from where I’m fumbling with the clasp and see Harry’s turning and grinning at me. “I love it. Thank you.” 

I shrug, trying to appear nonchalant. “S’no big deal.”

Harry’s eyes flicker from my lips back to my eyes. He leans forward and kisses me softly, barely a brush of his lips against mine, before he pulls back and grins. “Thank you.” 

A giddy smile spreads across my face and I make no effort to contain it. I grab my present and rip it open unceremoniously, making a mess of the wrapping paper in under a second. Harry laughs and reaches for my hand to slow me down, but I’ve already hit present and there’s no stopping me now.

I look down and stop moving. I can see Harry blushing out of the corner of my eye and he shrugs. “I know it’s shitty but I kind of don’t have a lot of money right now, you know that I guess, but I wanted to get you something-”

“Shutup,” I breathe. “Harry, god shutup. I love it.”

It’s a picture frame split into threes with two smaller pictures at the top and one large one at the bottom. One of the top ones is Harry and I that I don’t remember being taken, where I’m sloppily kissing his cheek and he’s grinning, so I’m guessing I was drunk, while the other is one of the rest of the boys and I on what must be the day Niall moved in because we’re sitting next to a pile of boxes and our smiles are incredibly fake and hilariously tired. The largest is a picture of all five of us with our arms thrown over one another and giant, real grins on our faces. 

“I felt kind of dumb putting it together,” Harry admits. “Like a five year old making a craft for Mother’s Day or something. But you don’t really have pictures around like the other boys and I just thought…maybe you should?”

I laugh to hide the stupid tears that are threatening to surface-because this is my  _family_ , even if my real one doesn’t want me these boys are my family-and grab Harry’s hand in mine. “Harry, I love it, I promise. Thank you so much.” 

Harry watches as I run my finger over our grinning faces and smiles as well. “I’m really glad I get to spend Christmas with you, Lou.” He murmurs.

I put the picture frame down carefully and pull him in for a hug. “Me too, Haz.” 

When he separates us I throw wrapping paper over his head to ease the tension which starts a war that ends with ripped up paper strewn over the apartment and Harry laughing so hard it sounds like he’s about to choke. I tuck a final piece of silver paper into his fringe and kiss his cheek. 

“We’re ordering Chinese because I have a feeling we’re going to be living off that ham for the next few years.” I tell him. 

Harry pushes me away and tells me to clean the paper up while he finds a menu. I pick up the living room as best I can while using minimal effort, before taking my picture frame into my room. I set it carefully on my bedside table, balanced on my dogeared copy of  _Look Back In Anger_  and tilted so I’ll be able to see it from my bed. 

A loud knocking at the door interrupts my micromanaging. I figure I must have heard wrong, but the knocking continues. Who on earth would be trying to come over on Christmas?

“I’ll get it,” I yell to Harry, who’s still routing around the kitchen looking for Niall’s stash of menus. “It’s probably that old twat next door coming to yell at us for being too loud with our Christmas cheer while she’s cursing everyone in the phone book.” Harry’s laugh rumbles through the apartment and almost blocks out the knocking that hasn’t ceased or slowed down.

I slide up to the door and pull it open, expecting the little old lady and not getting her. Instead I get a girl only a few inches shorter than myself with long blond hair and teary blue eyes. All the breath leaves my body and I have to search for air just to choke out, “Lottie?”

It’s my sister. She’s taller, her hair is longer, and she’s older and so much more beautiful, but it’s my sister. That’s about when it hits me. Two years. It’s been two whole years since I’ve seen Lottie and here she is at my door with a duffel bag and crying and this can’t be happening. 

“Louis!” Lottie tosses herself at me, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck and her legs going to my waist. She’s much too big for this now but I don’t care, I just hug her back twice as hard. 

“I found it, what-oh. Who’s this?” Harry stands in the doorway, smiling softly at the two of us.

Lottie see shim as well and clambers back to her feet. She wipes the makeup out from under her eyes, we will definitely have a talk about her wearing makeup, I decide, and fixes Harry with a fierce glare that really shouldn’t make me as proud as it does. “I’m his sister, who are you? His boyfriend?”

Harry makes a choking sound and turns an inhuman shade of red that would normally have me in stitches. He looks over at me, shocked, and I in turn look at Lottie. 

“What are you doing here?” My voice comes out a lot harsher than I meant it to, but I continue anyway. “It’s Christmas, how the hell did you even find me?”

“Ruth,” Lottie says simply. “She gave me your address. Liam came home for Christmas, you know, and he brought a very pretty boy with him. Mum says that’s your fault.”

I groan a bit at both things, but mostly about Ruth. When we were kids Liam’s mum used to babysit for us sometimes and Liam’s older sister always had a soft spot for Lottie. I’m guessing it’s because she used to let Ruth dress her up like a princess and I never did.

“But why?” I ask her. After I left my mother’s I was almost positive Lottie would hate me for it. She and I were always the closest and I used to promise I’d never leave her, and I did. What kind of shit brother does that?”

With no warning Lottie’s lip starts to quiver and a tear slips out. She tugs at her blonde hair a bit and looks down at her feet, mumbling something I can’t quite catch. I sigh and grab her duffel bag so I can shut the door and lead her to the couch.

“Sweetheart, English please.” I say, my voice much softer now.

Lottie finally looks back up at me and hiccups a bit. “I have a girlfriend.”

My heart sinks. “Oh…Lottie. Come here, baby.” Lottie climbs on top of me again, squeezing me almost too tightly to breathe but I don’t mind. 

Harry’s still standing awkwardly at the door to the kitchen, watching us in confusion. He motions to the menus and I nod. When he leaves, I cuddle Lottie closer to my chest, like we used to as kids, just trying to soothe her and her shaking sobs.

“It’ll be alright, I promise, okay?” Lottie shakes her head and I shush her. “It will. I promise I’m going to fix this for you.”

“She’s gonna find out. She’s gonna kick me out and-”

“Hey, look at me,” She does and I reach forward to gently tuck her hair behind her ear. “She isn’t going to kick you out, not if I have anything to say about it. I’m your big brother and I won’t ever let anything bad happen to you. Promise.”

Lottie nods and rests her head on my shoulder again, her smaller hands grabbing tightly to my shirt. “I missed you.”

I close my eyes and breathe out slowly, trying to fight back my own tears. I promised to take care of her and that probably does not include sobbing along with her. “I missed you too, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

Harry comes back a few minutes later, this time holding three cups of tea in his giant hands. I laugh quietly and motion for him to come sit down next to me. He does, setting the tea down on the coffee table and looking Lottie over suspiciously. 

“Lottie, this is Harry.” I say, gently.

Lottie lifts her head up from my chest an gives Harry a once over. “Your boyfriend.” She decides.

Again, Harry blushes and I laugh. “Not yet.” I mutter under my breath. Harry shoots me a look and reaches over to punch my shoulder, narrowly missing Lottie in the process.

“This child that you’re trying to abuse is Charlotte, but we call her Lottie.”

“M’Harry Styles,” Harry takes her hand and shakes it, effectively getting a small smile out of Lottie. “I made your tea like mine because Lou’s is gross.” He hands her her cup and Lottie giggles. 

She curls her feet up in my lap and watches Harry sip at his tea for a moment. She turns to me and nods silently, apparently approving of him. I roll my eyes and ignore her and that stupid warmth in my chest that’s practically screaming with joy at the fact that they like each other.

“So, show me this girlfriend of yours, Lots.” 

Lottie rolls her eyes at me but pulls her phone out of her pocket. Both Harry and I watch as she ignores the multiple missed calls from our mother and goes straight to the photos. She eventually pulls up a picture of her and another girl around her age with equally blonde hair. 

“She’s very pretty.” Harry comments. Lottie blushes and agrees. 

I look over a the phone as well just as another phone call comes in that Lottie ignores instantly. “Mum has no idea?” She shakes her head and I sigh. “When did you leave?”

“Earlier this morning,” Lottie locks her phone after setting it to silence and plays with it awkwardly. “I tried calling you yesterday and…I think Harry answered? And the second time you were drunk, so I figured might as well just show up.”

I groan and rub at my eyes. “We weren’t drunk we were tipsy.” I mutter, trying to convince myself more than her. 

“S’fine, I’m used to it.”

Harry shakes his head at this, his face stern. “No, Lou stopped drinking as much as he used to, he wasn’t drunk,” he answers for me. “I made him.”

Lottie turns to him and laughs. “Where were you two years ago?”

“Call Mum, please. Tell her you’re alright before she calls the police or something.” I interrupt the two of them before Harry can start asking questions.

Lottie groans, looking about ready to slide off the couch and start a tantrum like she used to as a baby. “But Lou-”

“Lottie.”

She sighs and rolls off my lap, taking a seat between mean and the side of the couch. I can tell she’s dreading the call just by the way she’s compulsively rolling her eyes at me and tapping through her phone as slow as possible. 

“Charlotte Tomlinson!” A shrill and familiar shout comes from the other end almost as soon as Lottie raises the phone to her ear. “Where are you?”

“In London.” Lottie’s voice takes on a timid and scared tone that I know far too well. 

“London!”

“With…with Louis.”

My mother falls silent for a moment and I can imagine her face right now. Just wait until she finds out why Lottie ran off. “Louis!” she screams. “Lottie, how many times do I have to tell you Louis isn’t part of this family anymore?”

That hurts, of course. I know she kicked me out on not so great terms but still, I never thought she’d cut me from the family completely. Then again I never thought the woman who was supposed to love me despite everything  _would_  kick me out. Suddenly all I can think about are the twins and Felicite. They were so young when I left, they probably hardly remember me, especially the twins. They probably believe everything our mother says about me, and I’m scared to know what that might be.

“He’s my brother,” Lottie cries. “You can’t keep me from him, I won’t let you!”

My mother sighs in that condescending way she has. “Lottie, where are you? I’m coming to get you.”

Lottie’s eyes widen in panic and she starts shaking her head. “No. No, you can’t-”

“Lottie, babe, give me the phone.” I murmur.

She hands it over and cries into her hands while I take the phone and walk to the kitchen “Mum?” I wonder for a moment if I should even call her that. When was the last time we spoke? Years ago by now. When there’s no words from her, I sigh. “I’ll drive her back in a week, when Liam and the rest get home.”

“Louis,” she spits, finally. “I want her home now.”

I shake my head. “No. I haven’t seen her in two years, I hardly think a week will make that much of a difference.”

Again, my mother is silence, giving me enough time to look out into the living room. I want to cry when I see Harry has his arms around my sister and he’s whispering to her, carding his fingers through her hair so much like I do with him when he’s upset. Lottie’s nodding at whatever he’s saying and hugging him back. 

“If she isn’t back in one week I will have you and everyone else in that…house arrested. Do you understand?”  She says  _house_  like I’m running some sort of gay brothel or something, which she probably thinks is true considering she knows about Liam too. 

“Perfectly.”

“And don’t think this means you’ll be welcome back.”

That doesn’t even hurt like I’m sure she wanted it to, because all I can think of is Harry comforting my sister and that picture frame with all the boy’s in it. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Have a nice night.” And with that, I hang up.

There’s silence, and then finally, “Lou?”

I look back over to the living room and see Harry, staring at me in concern. He reaches his hand that isn’t preoccupied trying to soothe Lottie. I smile and walk out, letting him interlace our fingers. 

“Lou, are you alright?” 

“I’m fine Hazza.” But he doesn’t let go, just shakes his head and keeps holding.

“I’m going to use the bathroom,” Lottie whispers, rubbing at her eyes. “And maybe call my girlfriend. She’ll be worried.” She quietly thanks Harry and leaves, glancing back at the two of us a few times on her way to the bathroom.

Harry squeezes my hand and tugs until I’m sitting down on the couch with him. “Your mom, she uh-”

“She’s horrible.” I mutter, bitterly.

“As long as you said it first,” Harry glances over at me, and sighs. “Louis, come here.”

“Haz-”

“Just come here, idiot.” Harry rolls his eyes and holds his arms out until I crawl into them, pressing close to his chest and letting his heartbeat echo in my ear.

Lottie comes back in a few minutes later, when I’m dangerously close to drifting off, and rolls her eyes at the two of us. “Are you one of those couples?” She teases. “The ones in denial?”

I jump away from Harry almost immediately and shake my head. “No, we aren’t dating Lottie. Don’t be stupid.” The words spill out automatically, practiced and memorized. I can feel the hurt look Harry’s giving me from behind my back. 

“You don’t have to do that anymore, you know,” Lottie mutters. “Mum’s not here and I’m not stupid.”

I flush bright red and clear my throat uncomfortably. I’m being attacked from both sides, which Harry’s huge sad eyes on one end and Lottie’s knowing ones on the other. Luckily for me there’s a loud knock at the door and Harry jumps up to get it.

“I’ve got it.” I say, reaching a hand out to stop him.

“Louis, I’ve got cash.” Harry says, obviously still confused and hurt. 

I bite my lip and lean down to kiss him softly, ignoring the itching at the back of my neck and my stupid brain yelling. “I’ve got it, love,” I whisper to him. “Show Lottie Liam and Zayn’s room?”

Harry bites his lip, his facial expression making me want to cry. Finally he nods and takes Lottie’s bag for her. I get the food from the delivery man and set it out on the table before sitting down and racking my brain for an explanation I can give Harry that won’t be disgustingly tragic. By the time he returns and starts eating without so much as a word to me, I decide that’s probably impossible.

“We miss you o much, Lou,” Lottie says, grabbing a container that holds what I’ve ordered as well. “The twins especially, they don’t understand any of it.”

I close my eyes and sigh. Harry’s finally looking at me again when I open them. “What did she tell them?”

Lottie says nothing, just picks at some of the chicken with her plastic fork and chews it. I raise my eyebrows but still she says nothing, playing with her food instead of answering me. Finally, she looks up and sighs.

“Louis, I’m so sorry.”

“What did she tell them.”

“She told them you um…you died.”

I put my food down slowly and nod, before walking away. I can hear my sister calling after me, but I don’t care. I slam my bedroom door behind me and let out a loud sob that I’m positive they can hear from the living room. 

Liam doesn’t answer when I call, going straight to voicemail, and when I try to reach him through Zayn his phone does the same. I figure it’s just because it’s Christmas and normal people are celebrating, but there’s still that voice of doubt telling me Liam’s finally done with my shit now too. 

I need a drink.

“Lou?” I look behind me and gasp when I see Harry softly closing the door behind him. “Louis, I’m so sorry.”

I shake my head. “I need a drink. I need a fucking drink.”

“No you don’t.” Harry blocks the doorway and shakes his head at me. 

“Yes I do!” I scream. I try to push past him but Harry doesn’t even budge, so I start hitting him instead. Harry doesn’t move though, just grabs my wrists to try and slow me. “I need it, I need to forget I need-” I break off into sobs and fall against his chest, sobbing.

Harry, the angel he is, walks us carefully to the bed and lays down slowly, tucking his knees under mine and holding me while I cry and blow snot all over like a child. He whispers in my ear something I can’t make out but I’m sure it’s calming and very Harry-like. I eventually calm down enough to where I can breathe normally and open my eyes.

“I just want to drink, please Haz,” I whisper. “Please don’t make me do this.”

Harry shakes his head. “No. Lou, I’m really sorry, but no.”

“Harry,  _please_.” My voice cracks. 

He just squeezes me tighter and kisses the back of my head. I break off into more heaving sobs and bring his hand to my lips, finding myself wishing it were a glass, wishing it were alcoholic and enough to make me blackout and forget all this. 

“I want to tell you everything, Harry. I want you to know, I want you to get it but it’s so dumb.” 

“I’ll listen, you know I will.”

“Please don’t hate me.”

Harry shakes his head and pulls me impossibly closer. “I could never, Lou.”

I nod and turn so I can bury my face in his neck, so he can’t see me and I can’t see him, and that helps. “My mom kicked me out when she found out I was gay,” I start after a deep breath.  “We were always sort of religious, I guess, but my mom more than the rest of us. She’d drag all us kids to church every Sunday and I remember spending most of it trying to wiggle off the pews and convince the Lottie and Fizzy to blow spit balls with me. I think it helped my mum deal with my father and the girls’ father leaving her, really. It gave her a place to escape from that and say  _God has a plan for us, Louis_  whenever things got bad. And I understood, I guess, I mean I didn’t like it but I thought I understood. 

“I always knew I was gay, or at least that I was different. I can remember having a giant crush on this older boy from Sunday School but I knew it was wrong so I never said anything. I kept it a secret for the longest time from everyone except Liam, and Lottie always sort of knew. So up until I was eighteen, Mum had no idea and then she saw this picture of me kissing some guy on Facebook. Someone must have taken it at a party and tagged me in it and that was it. She said all these horrible things to me, like I was an abomination to God, I wasn’t the son she raised, and then she told me I wasn’t allowed to come near her family ever again. Her family, not mine.

“I had to move in with Liam and his family until the end of the school year and then that summer we left for uni together and he took care of me the best he could. I haven’t spoken to any of the girls or my mother in so long, I never even tried to call because I knew there’d be no answer. I’m a horrible brother.”

Harry hushes me, his hand rubbing circles across my back. “Lou, you aren’t a horrible brother. Your mum kicked you out, that’s not your fault.”

“Yes it is, it is my fault,” I whisper, my protest coming out weak. “I’m gay and that’s my fault. I could have dated a girl, I could have been straight like I was supposed to be. I’m so selfish.”

I can feel Harry tense up under me and I’m sure it’s because this is pissing him off, hearing me talk about being gay like it’s wrong. He’s going to hate me for this, and he should. “Louis-”

“Even before she said any of that to me I knew it was wrong,” I interrupt him. “I felt wrong, even before I slept with Mr. Killian, I still felt wrong just for kissing boys, just for wanting to kiss them. So the only way I knew how to deal with it was to drink. I’d drink until I forgot how sinful it was and I drank until I came home almost to the point of alcohol poisoning and my mother had to clean me up because I got the shit kicked out of me. Mum never cared about that though, she apparently only cared who I wanted to fuckand so it must be wrong. It has to be wrong for her to do this, for her to kick me out and stop loving me and to tell my sisters…to tell them I’m dead.” 

Harry shakes his head vehemently. “Louis, no. It isn’t wrong, is that what you think? You think something’s wrong with you?”

“She hates me,” I murmur. “She hates me because I’m gay, so it must be wrong.”

Harry’s crying, I realize. He’s crying and trying to hide it by holding me closer and nosing along my neck, but I can feel the wetness on his cheeks still. “Louis, listen to me. You aren’t wrong, she is. The fact that she even made you believe that something is wrong with you just shows it. I’m sorry Louis, I’m so sorry she did this to you.” 

“I don’t want to think like this,” I murmur. “Because I like you so much Harry, I really do, but every time I touch you I just…it’s wrong. Something tells me it’s wrong and I hate it.”

“And you drink because-”

“Because I can forget everything my mother taught me growing up and everything she told me when I left and all the things everyone I knew growing up told me about sin. I wish I could change for her, I know I shouldn’t, but I do. If not for her then for my sisters.”

Harry kisses my cheek and I can now feel his tears running off from his cheeks to mine. “You don’t need to change yourself for anyone, you don’t need to please everyone to be considered right, do you understand?” When I say nothing, Harry heaves a sob and shakes his head. “Would you ever tell Lottie to breakup with her girlfriend and find a boy to go out with?”

“No, never.” I snap, appalled he’d even think that.

“Then why do it to yourself?” Harry’s breathy voice is right in my ear and I can’t ignore it even though I want to, because he’s right. I’m being a complete hypocrite.

“Because I’m a big brother and I need to be there, I need to protect them I-”

“Louis, Lou, breathe.” He soothes me. I nod back and clutch him tighter.

“I’ve never told anyone that, not even Liam,” I sniffle. “I mean, the drinking thing.”

Harry makes a low noise in his throat that I can’t exactly decipher and nods. “I’m happy you trust me, love.”

I smile and shrug. “You’re a good listener Hazza.”

“Must be why you kept me, then.”

I laugh at this, it comes out thick with tears and wrong sounding, but at least I’m laughing. I pull back and tilt my head up, puckering my lips and trying to make him laugh as well. He does, only after he rolls his eyes and kisses me softly. Harry’s thumb lingers along my bottom lip when he pulls away and he looks so serious I’m a bit afraid of what’s coming next.

“I want to try,” he says, still not pulling his thumb back. “If you want to try, I do too.”

“I do,” I promise him. “Harry, I really, really do. I don’t want to be like this anymore, I want to be with you.”

Harry smiles and nods, finally pulling his hand back. I reach up to his chest to fiddle awkwardly with the paper airplane I bought him. When I glance back up I see his smile has turned fond and he’s carding his fingers through my hair.

“Lottie’s pretty upset, love, you should probably go talk to her.”

I nod and pull away, before pushing myself back and kissing him once more. Harry chuckles at me and I poke his nose back. “Just because I can.” I whisper, and I lean in for another drawn out snog. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize Lottie getting a train anywhere on Christmas day is pretty much impossible but shhhhhh. Shhhh.
> 
>  
> 
> tumblr: amoryfics


	15. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s so late and it’s a filler and it’s so short and I am not a happy camper right now but at least my writers block has subsided….yay?
> 
> tumblr: amoryfics

“Harry?”

“ _Shit_ ,” I swear, trying to steady the pan I nearly knocked over. Lottie stands behind me, her amused look reviling Louis’. She’s watching me, probably has been watching me for who knows how long, but says nothing else.

“Lottie?”

She sighs softly and pads the rest of the way into the kitchen, taking what’s usually Niall’s seat at the table. Finally, she shrugs and says, “Nothing just…good morning, I guess.”

“Good morning.” I say back. My voice is much more careful sounding than I intended it to be. I’m a bit afraid any word out of place will set her off like a powder keg, just like yesterday. I don’t think I’m very good with crying girls and I certainly don’t want to test that theory.

After finishing my own eggs, I ask her how she’d like hers. Lottie’s eyes widen a bit, obviously surprised, but I figure it must be because she grew up with Louis who thinks eggs are edible right out of the shell. When I stare back, she clears her throat and shrugs. “Can you do it with the yolks up? Do you know how?” Her voice is still skeptical and it makes me laugh.

_Definitely grew up with Louis._

“Of course I can.”

Lottie stays silent as I crack her eggs into the pan and cook them quickly, sliding them onto a plate for her where she’s sitting. She stares them, poking at one with her fork as if she expects it to pop back up into a chicken or something. After a lengthy inspection, she takes a bite and grins up at me. I give her a small smile back and the two of us eat at the table in silence.

“Louis told me you were homeless when he found you,” Lottie says, pushing a bit of her egg whites around. I hesitate, unsure if it’s a question, but nod anyway. “Was it hard?”

“Why?”

Lottie looks away from me and towards the wall instead. “If my mum kicks me out I’d just…I’d like to know.”

I almost don’t say anything, because I can’t. Images of Louis flood my mind, Louis drunk and crying to me about his sisters, Louis face yesterday when Lottie jumped into his arms as soon as he opened the door, the content and proud little smile he gets whenever they’re mentioned. And then all I can imagine is how heartbroken he’d be to hear Lottie talking like this.

“Louis would never let that happen to you,” I say, sternly. “Even if she does kick you out, which I doubt will happen, Louis won’t ever let you become homeless like I was.”

Lottie shakes her head, putting her fork down completely so she can wipe at her eyes. “You’ve only just met me, you don’t know that.”

“I know Louis, though,” I say. “And I know how much he loves you. He loves you more than anything, Lottie, you mean the world to him. You shouldn’t even be questioning whether or not he’d help you.”

Lottie’s bottom lip quiver and she shrugs again, if only out of something to distract me from her crying. “He has his own life now,” she murmurs, her voice thick with tears. “He has school, and his job, and his friends, and now he has you. I don’t want to ruin this for him.”

“Hey,” I whisper, reaching for her hand and waiting for her to lift her head back up so our eyes can meet. “No one is trying to replace you here, no one ever could. You have someone who loves you so unconditionally, someone who’s always going to want to protect you, and you cannot take that for granted, okay? Louis is going to fix this for you, and if it goes terrible there’s always my air mattress, and he is never going to stop loving you.”

To my surprise, Lottie lets out a short giggle. She wipes at her bright blue eyes and cracks a smile. “You make him really happy, you know? He never used to smile like he does now back home. Not even around Liam.”

I blush at this and return to my plate, staring at what’s left of my food in lieu of meeting her knowing eyes again. Just as I’m ready to give up the act and go start on the dishes, a certain sleepy looking boy comes ambling in.

“Hazza?” Louis croaks, frowning when he sees me. He ruffles Lottie’s hair and kisses her on the cheek, making her grimace and jerk away playfully. He comes up to me next and lands in my lap, wrapping his arms around my neck and snuffling against my skin. “Thought you’d left.”

Lottie gives the two of us a look and rolls her eyes. “I’m going to take a shower.” She mutters, pushing away from the table. I give her a small wave but it’s stopped when Louis wraps his arms tighter.

“Why would I leave?” I ask, softly.

Louis leans his head on my shoulder but still doesn’t look at me. “You know why, Harry.”

“Lou-”

“M’just glad you didn’t though,” Louis mumbles. “Wake me up next time? Before you get out of bed.”

“Lou, it was early.”

Louis shakes his head. “I don’t care, just please.”

I lean my head down against his, breathing in the smell of his shampoo and letting his fine hair tickle my face as I answer. “Alright love, if that’s what you want.”

He sighs in relief and nods. “Thank you.”

Louis stays in my lap until his stomach rumbles a few too many times and I figure I should feed him at least. He eats on the couch, at his insistence, with his legs stretched over mine sideways, playfully poking at my thigh with his socked foot every now and then while I try to find something to watch on tv.

When Lottie comes back in she sits right down on the floor in front of Louis and passes him a hairbrush. I watch, almost in awe, as they banter back and forth easily about the people from back home and Louis braids his sister’s hair, his nimble fingers working quickly.

While they talk, I use my new phone to text Nick. I’d had one back home of course, but like every stupid teenage runaway I’d spent about ten hours googling running away before I actually did it, and found that cell phones can be tracked so I left it. It’s probably still sitting where I left it, right in the middle of my bed along with my school books.

 _You’re shagging Tomlinson and he bought you a phone?_ Nick texts back as soon as I let him know it’s me.

I roll my eyes.  _No asshole, it was a gift_

_Whatever you say, pet_

I’m about to text back when out of the corner of my eye I see Louis’ hands stutter and he swears under his breath. He unravels the last part of Lottie’s braid and starts it up again silently.

Lottie tilts her head up and rolls her eyes at Louis. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re still in love with him.”

I snap my head up at this and Louis notices if the way he avoids my eyes is anything to go by. “Wasn’t in love with him, Lottie. We haven’t even spoken since I left.”

“Well he’s been asking after you.”

Louis makes a face and gives a piece of her hair a sharp tug. “Why don’t you tell him I’m dead? Seems to work well enough.”

“Louis,” I breathe, my eyes going a bit wide.

“Lou-ee.” He mocks me back, then smiles. He finishes off Lottie’s intricate braid with a flourish and a hair tie, patting her on the shoulder to signal he’s done. She turns and gives him a scowl to rival my own, until Louis rolls his eyes at us both and leaves the room, ostensibly to take his dishes from breakfast into the kitchen.

Lottie jumps up onto the couch, taking her brother’s seat. “It’s his ex-boyfriend, the one Mum saw him kissing,” she explains. “He was kind of a dick though, so don’t worry.”

“M’not worried.” I say with forced causality.

“You’re a terrible liar.” She sounds so much like Louis that I have to look away. I choose instead to look back to my phone where Nick’s sent me a picture of our school playground. Really though, it’s himself covered in snow, looking ridiculous as ever, and his poor niece looking mortified as he attempts to hold onto the monkey bars with,  _Remember this Styles?_ as the caption.

And of course I remember it. I remember going there with Gemma on the weekends, waiting for her there all day sometimes while she worked because she didn’t want me home, Nick tugging me around it during school and announcing to everyone who’d listen that I was his boyfriend, Gemma shooing him away if she caught him bugging me. Of course I remember it, but I don’t want to.

Louis reenters and lands down on my lap ungracefully, giving me no chance to chew Nick out for bringing back the exact memories I was hoping to avoid. “His name’s Stan.” He says without pretense, so I assume we’re back to talking about his ex-boyfriend.

“I didn’t ask.” I wrap one arm around Louis’ waist, just to let him know I’m not as annoyed as I sound.

Louis reaches for my hand and looks back to his sister. “So, how is he then?”

“I don’t talk to him Lou, he just works at the drug store and asks me how you are whenever he sees me. He asked for your number a few times too but I never gave it to him. I didn’t know if you’d changed it or if you’d even want to talk to him.”

From where I’m sitting I can only see Louis’ sharp little canines biting down on his lip before he speaks again. “I don’t blame him, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s not his fault, it’s mine for ever kissing him in the first place.”

“Lou,” I murmur, softly protesting against his words. Louis visually crumples at this and I gather him back against my chest, pressing my lips to his neck. “It isn’t your fault, please don’t say that.”

Louis sighs but squeezes my hip, his sign that he’s okay. “Let’s go out today, yeah? We can show Lottie around, trick her into thinking we’re actually quite fancy city people.”

“The teacher and the homeless man. Regular millionaires, we are.” I look around Louis so I can smirk at Lottie who giggles back.

Louis, however, doesn’t laugh. Instead he gives me a strange look and drops his head to my shoulder. His fingers wraps around my paper airplane necklace and he sighs, long and drawn out. “Not homeless anymore.”

“No, definitely not.” I murmur back, just as quietly.

With a quick tug to my necklace and a kiss under my jaw, Louis lifts himself up off my chest. “Come on then love, you need to shave. You have the weirdest little mustache.”

I reach for my upper lip, frowning when both Louis and Lottie start laughing. “I don’t shave.”

Lottie sighs down at me and shakes his head. “Lottie, dear, never date an adolescent.”

I fake a gaps, a rather convincing one if you ask me, and slap his fingers away from where they’re now playing along my upper lip. “I am not an adolescent!”

Louis mutters something sounding dangerously close to  _child_ , and leaves the room, apparently expecting me to follow. I do of course, only after grabbing clothes from my suitcase and, on second thought, a jumper for Louis to borrow.

 _Enjoy this while it lasts,_ I think to myself as Louis goes on a tirade about keep my lip taunt so he can shave my small amount of facial hair without me “hemorrhaging” to death.  _Everyone leaves._

We’re about to go out the door when Louis stops me with a hand to my chest so he can straighten my coat and fix my scarf and beanie for me, all with a determined look on his face. He tucks a curl over my ear and shrugs unapologetically when he notices I’m smiling at him.

“I don’t want you to get cold.”

“Jeez Lou,” Lottie giggles, wrapping her own scarf around her neck. “When did you get so domestic?”

“When I found someone worth being domestic for, Charlotte.” Louis snaps back with a smile. Lottie laughs back and once again I’m floored at how alike they are. It leaves me wondering, if only for a moment, whether or not Gemma and I were like that.

That scares me, the fear that one day I won’t be able to remember my sister. My mother’s face is foggy and I can just barely remember the tone of her voice sometimes and how she used to sing me to sleep at night. Lately though, it’s started to happen with Gemma. I’m starting to forget her little quirks and mannerisms and the way she sounded when she was completely happy, no matter how infrequent it was. Those are the things I want to remember about her and those are the things that are fading the fastest.

“Haz, come on love.”

I look up and jolt at the realization I’ve blanked out long enough to get to the train. Louis’s looking at me, eyebrows knitted in concern, and motioning to the train that’s awaiting.

“You alright?” He asks, once we’re pressed close together, one of his arms protectively around Lottie and the other playing at my waist.

“Perfect.”

The three of us go into the city where everything gets steeply expensive and touristy and Lottie’s eyes just get wider and wider. She even begs Louis to take her on the London Eye which of course he immediately rejects, his face tinting a little green just at the thought.

“Oh come on  _Boobear_ , it’s not that scary.”

I smile at this. “Boobear?” I ask, tilting my head slightly in what I hope is in innocent manner.

Louis look from my smiling face to Lottie’s and glowers at us both. “Now we’re definitely not going on it.” He announces, stomping away and ignoring our protests and teasing laughter.

I use my new phone-Louis’ phone really-to take pictures of the two of them or the three of us or even just Louis and I, usually with him sneaking a kiss onto my cheek. They’re all perfect to me of course, and I definitely won’t admit to wanting them just so when Louis leaves I won’t forget these things like I’m forgetting Gemma.

“Fizzy’s going to be so jealous when she sees these.” Lottie giggles when we sit down for lunch. She’s going through the pictures I’ve sent her from my phone and the ones she’s taken herself with a triumphant grin I can only attribute to sibling rivalry.

“Maybe one day she’ll fly the coop like you did.” Louis jokes.

Lottie seems to think it over a second, before shrugging and looking away guiltily. “I think when you um…when you talk to Mum you should ask her to let us come out every once in awhile. I mean, if you want us here it’s not like-”

“Lottie,” Louis stops her rambling with a sharp tug at her braid and a sad smile. “Love, I will always want to see you girls. I love you, you know that right?” his eyebrows furrow and he looks incredibly concerned at this thought. “You know that if…if things had gone differently I’d be there for you everyday if you needed me to be, right?”

Lottie glances over at me and I give her a look, a shameless  _I told you so_. She nods back to Louis and reaches over for his hand just to squeeze it. “I love you Lou. I’m glad I came.”

It’s not until later, when Louis and I are watching Lottie attempt to make a snowman in Hyde Park, that Louis seems to notice something’s wrong. I don’t blame him of course-he hasn’t seen his little sister in years, he needs time with her-but it still feels nice when he kisses along my neck and gives my hip a quick squeeze.

“Babe, what’s wrong? Why are you so sad today?” He asks.

I shrug. “S’nothing really. Just tired from walking around so much I guess.”

Louis frowns at this and shakes his head. “No, that’s a lie. I’ve already told you Harry Styles, you’re a terrible liar,” I look down sheepishly and he chuckles a bit. “So tell me what’s really wrong.”

“It’s just, Nick sent me this picture earlier, yeah? So that got me thinking-”

“It wasn’t a picture of his dick was it?” Louis blurts out.

I bark out a laugh and immediately cover it with my hand. “No, Louis oh my god. It was just the playground from back home and I guess it brought a lot of stuff back to me and… I’m afraid I’m forgetting Gemma. I have this picture of her with the things I had when I um came here but, Lou s’just really scary.”

Louis barely gives me time to finish before he’s throwing his arms around my neck and tugging me close. “Oh god, Haz, why didn’t you say anything?” I shrug and he pulls back just enough to frown at me. “Harry you need to tell me this things, alright? You don’t need to deal with this by yourself, I want to help you.”

“You do?” I ask, sounding like the complete idiot that I am.

Louis rolls his eyes at me but indulges me anyway with a kiss. “Of course I do, idiot, I’m your boyfriend right? That’s what we do, we sort each other’s shit out and then kiss afterward.” I can tell he’s trying to mask his hopeful look with a smirk when he says the word  _boyfriend_ and I can’t help but blush and smile back.

“Right.” I say, simple and effective.

Louis beams at this and kisses me again chastely. “Do you want to wait and talk about it or is now a good time?”

I look over to where Lottie is furiously attempting to stick a rock she’s dug up onto her snowman and shake my head. “Later Lou, later is fine. Come on, let’s help your sister before she smashes the poor snowman to pieces.”

Later turns out to be much later and in bed, after Louis’s said goodnight to Lottie in Liam and Zayn’s room and taken a shower. He comes running in, a ball full of energy, and lands on my chest, laughing when I groan under him.

“I like have you in here, s’nice.” He says simply.

“We cuddled all the time before Lou.” I remind him.

Louis shrugs and leans down to kiss my neck, even going so far as to nip at the goose pimpled skin. “Yeah but this time I can sneak a cheeky hand down your pants if I so desire.” He murmurs, his breath hot on my neck. I gulp audibly and squirm a bit under him. Louis must notice because he chuckles lightly and scoots back off me to lean his head on my chest.

“I’d forgotten how Lottie sounded,” Louis says after a few minutes of just tracing nonsensical patterns over my chest. “It was so long and when she first said my name it all just…came back to me I guess, but before that I could barely remember it.”

I nod, closing my eyes. “That’s how it is with Gemma,” I murmur. “I can remember some things she would say like, ‘I love you Harry’ or, ‘I’ll…I’ll always keep you safe’. She said that a lot.”

Louis, being as perfect as he is, doesn’t question why Gemma would ever need to say that, and instead just nods. “Harry, it doesn’t mean you love her any less alright? It doesn’t mean you’re forgetting her completely, just the little things, and sure that hurts but you aren’t ever going to forget your sister. You’re never going to forget how much she loved you and how much she meant to you.”

“How did you know I thought that?”

“You aren’t as sneaky and as guarded as you think you are.” Louis quips.

I roll my eyes and turn so I’m on my side and he’s holding my hand. “I think you’d be surprised.”

Louis frowns at me and I close my eyes, unable to deal with his sad and concerned face being directed towards me. “What are you so afraid to tell me, Harry? What could be so bad that it beats everything I’ve already told you?”

I shrug as best I can with my shoulder pressed to the mattress. “Hopefully you’ll never have to know.” I mumble, saying a silent prayer that he really won’t ever know.

Louis’ lips press against mine in something just barely resembling a kiss, and he leaves them there. I assume by the way his chest rises and falls rhythmically that he’s finally fallen asleep, but a whisper only a few seconds later proves me wrong.

“Hey Haz?”

“Louis go to sleep or I swear I’m going back to the living room.” I warn him.

“No,” he whines, his arms reaching to grip around my stomach, as if I’d ever actually leave. “I just wanted to say thank you for being so nice to Lottie today…and yesterday too. She likes you and that really means a lot to me.”

“She likes me?” I ask, surprised. I knew the girl probably didn’t hate me but after what she told me this morning about feeling replaced, I’d expected her to not be completely fond of me.

Louis shakes his head, his little nose rubbing against my t-shirt. “I’m not the only one who’s impossible not to love.” I can practically hear his amused smile in his tone and I’m glad his eyes are closed too so he can’t see me grinning back.

“Go to sleep Boobear.”


	16. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for (almost?) 100 kudos you guys are so sweet :) enjoy xx
> 
> tumblr: amoryfics

I’m startled awake by a scream and my immediate reaction is to grab Harry who’s underneath me, still asleep, and maybe scream right back. I’m about to go investigate when I hear Lottie’s girly giggling and her screaming again, but this time yelling “Liam!” and realize Liam and Zayn have probably returned to find my little sister in their bed. I have absolutely no desire to deal with that reunion this early in the morning.

“Mm, Lou?” Harry mumbles, his hand patting around me blindly.

Sighing softly, I reach around a bit until my hand is rubbing soothingly over his stomach. “S’okay babe, go back to sleep.” And I decide to do just that.

It feels like it’s only been a few minutes when I’m woken up again. This time its to the tune of a short gasp, a snicker, and the unmistakable voice of Lottie sing-songing, “I told ya so.”

I groan loudly and turn my head so I can see we’ve attracted a small gaggle of people. Lottie, always the purveyor of mischief, stands at the door with a smug smile on and her arms crossed over her pjs, and behind her are Zayn and Liam who look a bit shocked. I feel a bit like a teenager who’s just been caught by his parents sleeping with his boyfriend.

“They’ve been kissing and holding hands and everything, it’s disgusting.” Lottie informs my impromptu parents.

I groan even louder and press my face back against Harry’s shoulder. “Go away.”

“Louis.”

“Liam, don’t even start it’s too damn early. I’m not even drunk!” I shout.

There’s another whine of my name, but this time it’s in the form of a small rumble under my ear. I peek up and smile at Harry who’s frowning and looking around, adorably confused.

“Hi guys,” he says, finally. “How was Christmas?”

Zayn snickers. “Not as good as yours, apparently.”

I move my arms and wrap them around Harry’s neck, pulling myself up so most of my body is covering his. “Leave my poor Hazza alone. He’s sleepy and he doesn’t need you accosting him.”

Harry smiles softly at this. “I am sleepy.” He agrees. With that he closes his eyes and nuzzles into my neck like a tired kitten.

I pout. “I know babe, I’ll make them leave you alone.” With that, I turn and glare at the three of them.

Liam bites at his lip, one hand on Lottie’s shoulder almost impulsively. “When you wake up we’ll talk, yeah?” He says, carefully.

“’Course Li, I missed you interventions.” I sit up and stretch, wincing when my back cracks a bit. The others leave me alone with Harry, who’s currently grabbing the pillow I was using and snuggling against it. Unable to stop the grossly fond smile on my face, I decide to just leave it and brush Harry’s soft curls away from his face.

“You gonna sleep much longer, love?”

Harry tugs the pillow tighter and shakes his head. “No, you can go,” he mumbles. “Tell Li I’m sorry I stole you.”

I laugh and lean down to kiss him, not even minding our gross morning breath. “Oh I definitely stole you, Styles.” Harry smiles, still not opening his eyes, and shoves me away. I leave him to sleep a little longer, stopping only to tug his jumper from yesterday on over my boxers.

Lottie is interrogating Zayn when I walk in the living room, while Liam paces around restlessly. “Yeah, well what are you going to do with an  _English_  major?” She questions, leaning forward towards Zayn as if this is all one big elaborate lie in an attempt to steal Liam.

I cough to cover a laugh and school my face into just a small smile. “Lots, leave him alone he’s already gotten this from Liam’s whole family.” I say to her on my way to the kitchen. Liam follows, leaving a helpless Zayn to my sister’s mercy.

“So when did that happen?” Liam asks, folding his arms.

“We were kind of building up to it, yeah?” I try to joke. Liam frowns at me and I sigh, making myself busy by flipping the kettle on and setting out mugs. “I told him everything, absolutely everything. About Mum and…why I left and…yeah.”

Liam deflates at this, his eyes going wide and his hands dropping to his sides. “Oh, Lou-”

“And he didn’t freak out or leave so figured what the hell.” I keep my watery smile to myself and start spooning out sugar.

Liam watches me silently for a little while before whatever he’s keeping in must wear away at him. “Lou I’m just…I worry, you know? I love you and I don’t want to see you get hurt. What if he leaves?” I stop moving, spoon held midair, and he sighs. “You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it before Lou.”

“Well, yeah, of course I have. Haven’t you?”

“Everyday,” Liam groans. “Every fucking day I wake up and I pray that he’s still here. And not just because I like him, it’s because I know if he leaves it’s going to absolutely destroy you.”

“Not really.” I mutter. It’s a lie and it even sounds like a lie, coming out all wrong with my voice just a bit too high. I am definitely off my game and it’s partially Harry’s fault.

Liam obviously hears it too because he comes forward and rests his chin on my shoulder. “Lou, stop it. You know it would.”

Leave it to Liam to figure out one of my worst fears and say it out loud. He’s always been like this, even when we were kids. Once, he went so far as to tell our entire class in the third grade that I had an irrational fear of hamsters when we found out we were getting one as a class pet. However I think my fear of Harry leaving one day without so much as a word beats the fear of Hammy the Hamster.

“Well he’s not leaving. I won’t let him.” I tell Liam, firmly.

He chuckles a bit and to my surprise, doesn’t push it. “Alright, I guess. Are you happy though?” He waits until I nod to give me a loud smacking kiss on the cheek. “Good, that’s all I want.”

I smile back and Liam leaves, probably to go back and defend Zayn. Harry must come in a little later because I can hear his sleepy deep voice trying to defend his wet hair from Zayn, who’s apparently gotten new hair products for Christmas that he wants to try out. I roll my eyes and carry as many cups of tea as I can into the living room, eying Zayn.

“Leave my boyfriend’s hair alone, Malik.” I warn. He’s currently trying to push all of Harry’s fringe up into a weird sort of ponytail at the top of his head and Harry looks absolutely terrified. He sends me a look begging for help so I take his hand and try to tug him from Zayn’s grasps.

“Oh come on Lou,” Zayn whines.”Don’t you wanna see what his hair would look like straightened?”

Harry gasps, obviously believing the other boy. “Louis, help.”

“I did not miss you.” I say, trying to hide my laughter at Harry’s misfortune. He finally manages to scramble away from Zayn with a loud shout of triumph.

“Did so, liar.” Zayn rolls his eyes and takes a mug from the table. He settles back against the couch, one arm around Liam who has his own arm around Lottie’s shoulders, so I’m guessing Zayn’s been approved.

Harry curls into my side and pouts, sticking his lower lip out almost comically far. “I didn’t miss you either.”

“Yeah? Too busy fucking your new boyfriend?”

“Zayn!” Liam shrieks, clapping his hands over Lottie’s ears and scowling at his boyfriend.

Lottie whines and tries to pull Liam’s hands away.”I am not a child!”

“Yes you are.” Liam and I say, completely in sync.

Harry starts tugging at my arm, giving me a look that probably means he wants to talk. As soon as we’re in the kitchen and out the eyesight of everyone else, he’s frowning and chewing his lip nervously. “What did Liam say? Is he angry with me?”

“Love, why on earth would he be angry with you?” I ask, trying not to laugh.

“Because I kind of just took you without asking.” Harry whispers conspiratorially. When I let the laugh out, unable to hold it any longer, he frowns at me.

“Haz, I’m not his favorite toy. You don’t need his permission.”

“Debatable.”

I fake a gasp that must be pretty convincing because Harry’s eyes widen and he looks about two seconds away from apologizing for it. Before he can stutter something out I step forward and kiss him.

“Lou, they’re right out there-” Harry cuts off with a moan when I bring my hand up to his hair and thread my hand through it. His curls are still wet from the shower and they curl in around my fingers as I tilt his head to get closer. Harry stumbles backwards against the counter and his hands go to my waist, his thumbs brushing over the small sliver of exposed skin there.

I pull back just enough to take in his post-kiss appearance. His lips are somehow even redder than before, shining just a bit and still hanging slightly open. When he notices I’m gone, Harry snaps his eyes open. I grin, admittedly a bit smug to see his pupils are blown wide with lust. I did that.

“You’re quite pretty like this.”

Harry hums, a mischievous smile playing at his swollen lips. “Pretty pretty princess.” He jokes.

I chuckle back at him and lean down just enough to bite onto his exposed collarbone. Harry lets out a small yelp and a gasp when I latch onto one side and run my tongue over the mark to soothe it. When I pull back there’s a small, dark mark there. Feeling strangely possessive, I run my fingers over the mark and press my thumb into it.

“My pretty princess, yeah?”

“’Course Lou,” Harry whispers back, breathless.

We stare at each other for a moment, each with wide eyes, before I lean down against his chest. Harry wraps his arms around my shoulders and starts to rock us side to side almost like a dance. His heartbeat resonates in my ear, steady and slow.

“What’re you thinking about?” He whispers.

I shrug, not wanting to ruin the moment but also not wanting to lie to him. “I have to bring Lottie back home soon. I was thinking New Years day, maybe.”

Harry nods and kisses my ear. “I’ll come with you,” He says, firmly. I look up at him in surprise and he shrinks back, like he’s scared or something. “I mean, if you want me to I-”

“Hazza,” I scrub my hands over my face and sigh. “Love, I want you to, so badly, but my mother she’s…she’s going to say awful things to you. I don’t know if I can handle that….I-I don’t know if  _you_ can handle that.”

Harry looks almost angry at this, but shrugs at me anyway. “Fine. I don’t care if she says awful things to me, as long as it deflects it from you.”

“Harry-”

“No,” he says sternly. “She doesn’t get to talk to you and make you feel bad for something you can’t change and something you shouldn’t have to change.”

A weak sounding whimper comes from somewhere and I cringe when I realize it was me. I sound stupid, like a little girl more than a twenty year old adult, but the thought of my mother saying the things she said to me to my Harry makes me sad. So I tell him that.

“I’ve been through worse Lou, trust me.” Harry mutters back.

I look up at him, tilting my head a bit in question. “What do you mean?”

Harry shakes his head and grabs one of the mugs off the table. He takes a sip of the lukewarm tea and makes a face before dumping it out. He’s mumbling something under his breath that I’m not listening to because my mind is racing too fast to hear.

“Harry, what do you mean you’ve been through worse?” I try again, this time stopping him with a hand on his arm.

“You found me, you know.” Harry says, pulling his arm away.

And of course I know. I remember vividly how Harry looked, laying in my bed almost unconscious, his face bruised and swollen. I remember all the days afterward and how he’d flinch whenever we neared him, how scared he was to be here and how he thought we didn’t want him.

“That happened before?”

Harry sighs at me and it’s obvious he’s irritated, which is a strange look on his normally happy face. Come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen him angry honestly, not since he got drunk and yelled at Nick and I. I definitely do not want a repeat of that, either.

“Louis, please. Just please stop, alright?” He snaps.

We’re both silent for a little while, Harry starting the kettle up again to make more tea and I just watching him bustle around the kitchen quietly. Eventually it gets to me and I decide the only way to fix this is to stop his walking around and snuggle close to his side, rubbing my cheek against his ribs.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, wrapping one arm around his waist. “If you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to. Just know I’m here, yeah? Always.”

Harry wraps his arm around me shoulders and nods, but he still doesn’t look at me. “I know, Lou.” He sounds doubtful though, and I hate that, so I tug him closer.

“No one should ever hurt someone like you.” I sigh into his shirt.

“Sometimes it can’t be helped. M’sorry I got angry, Loubear.”

When I look back up again I see he’s grinning down at me and I grin back. “If you ever call me Loubear in public, I will end you Styles.” I warn him with absolutely no menace in my voice.

“Loubear,” Harry chuckles, drawing the syllables out and poking me in the stomach. “Boobear Loubear!”

“Shutup!” I cry, trying to squirm away. Harry is a lot stronger than he looks, though, and I soon find myself lifted off the ground. I start screaming like a teenage girl and hitting him, punching at his chest. Harry just laughs and carries me out of the kitchen and into the living room.

I can hear everyone else laughing now as well as Harry carries me in and jumps down on the couch, landing somehow with me in his lap, one arm around my waist like an iron bar. He kisses the back of my neck and I can feel him smiling there against my skin.

“I win.”

I cross my arms and frown. “Didn’t realize we were playing a game.”

“We’re always playing a game,” Harry laughs. “Keeping you on your toes, Tomlinson.”

Liam is smiling at me and I stick my tongue out, because fuck him, and cuddle back against Harry who’s resting his head on my shoulder and drawing circles on my stomach with his fingers. Harry sighs out in content and closes his eyes, letting me stay seated on his lap while the rest of us try to pick a movie to watch.

“I see what you were saying about them being disgusting.” Zayn comments to Lottie on his way to the kitchen to finish Harry’s forgotten tea.

“Like you aren’t!” I shout after him. “I’m pretty sure you’d crawl up Liam’s ass given the chance!” Zayn looks over his shoulder just to wink suggestively and send me into a fit of laughter.

Liam gasps and reaches for my sister who somehow evades his hands. “Language!” He hisses at me, narrowing his eyes.

All five of us decide on a movie to watch-Aladdin of course, because Liam still can’t resist Lottie’s puppy dog eyes-and another after that and another after that. Before I realize it, there are plates of Harry’s leftover ham everywhere and Lottie’s nodding off on the side of the couch while The Dark Knight plays on the telly. I’m curled up against Liam’s side, content to succumb to my food coma and just fall asleep here, when I feel my phone buzzing in my pocket.

_I need to talk to you_

I frown down at the screen, sure it has to be the wrong number.  _About what?_

_Harry. Come over in ten_

_I never said yes Grimshaw_

_Nine minutes._

Groaning, I slip my phone back in my pocket and stand up. “M’going out for a bit.” I yawn.

“What?” Liam frowns down at the place I’ve left sadly, like that might be enough to coax me back.

“I’m meeting up with someone for a drink.” I mutter, not too keen on giving them the full details.

Harry blinks his sleepy eyes up at me and tugs away from where Zayn is petting at his curls like a cat. “With who?” His voice is so goddamn innocent it makes me want to just run out now, but I can’t, not when he’s looking at me like that.

“Grimmy. Nick I….Nick Grimshaw.” I stutter out.

There’s silence, and then Zayn’s loud laughter that seems to shake the entire room. Liam soon joins in and I flip them both off, storming away so I can put on actual clothes and call a cab.

I’m wiggling into my skinny jeans when Harry comes in, holding Lottie carefully in his arms. The sight of it almost makes me want to cry, Lottie sleeping silently, one of her arms wrapped around Harry’s back and her blond hair sticking to his t-shirt. He passes me silently and lays her down in Niall’s bed, tucking her in and everything.

“Thank you.” I murmur, watching as Harry carefully pushes her hair away from her face.

“I could sleep on the couch-”

“It’s alright Haz, s’not like we’re gonna get each other off with my sister in the next bed over.” I whisper back.

Harry turns around to face me and I see he’s barely containing a laugh, resorting to slapping a hand over his mouth just to stop it. I smile and stride up to tug his hand back and kiss him. “I won’t be gone long.”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m coming too.” He says, firmly.

I sigh. “Haz-”

“I know what he’s doing and I’m not going to let him do it. So yeah, I’m coming too.” Apparently that’s the end of the conversation because Harry’s out the door. For a not-so brief moment I find myself missing shy Harry that never dared raise his voice or speak a stern word. Not that this Harry isn’t nice too, of course.

“Hey Lou?”

I jump at the sound of a voice and whirl around to see Lottie, sitting up slightly and frowning. “Hey sweetheart, what is it?”

Lottie shrugs and waits until I’m sitting on the bed to sit the rest of the way up and wrap her arms around my neck. “I just love you a lot.” She mumbles.

“I love you too,” I murmur back. “Love you always.”

She sniffles a bit and then breaks into more sobbing, pulling me tighter. “Louis please don’t make me go home. I can’t go back there, I can’t do it, please don’t make me. She makes me feel like there’s something wrong with me and I can’t…maybe there is.”

Hearing my words come from her mouth is terrifying and I realize this is exactly how our mother made me feel and it’s exactly what I wanted to avoid. Maybe I deserved it, I’m supposed to be the responsible big brother, the man of the house who helps take care of his little sisters, but Lottie does not deserve that. She doesn’t deserve to spend however many years of her life scared of who she is and having to drink just to be able to  _be_ who she is. Lottie deserves happiness, and I’ll be damned if I don’t give her that.

“Nothing is wrong with you, listen to me,” I brush her hair back and wait until she lifts her head up and looks at me. “Mum is wrong. She’s the wrong one here not you, alright? Who you love is completely up to you and anyone who dares judge you for that is not someone you need in you life. I mean, look at me, yeah? I had Liam and he always loved me no matter what, and now I’m here and I have my boys and I have Harry and love, you have that too. You have me. You have me, you have Liam too, and your girlfriend and most of your friends. I’m always going to be here for you, I’m never going to judge you, and they won’t either.”

Lottie bites at her lip but finally nods, hugging me again and sniffling into my shirt. “You really are the best big brother, Lou.”

“I’m not-”

“Yes you are,” Lottie hisses, shooting upwards and glaring at me. “You are the best big brother, you’re so brave, and caring, and I couldn’t even dream of someone better than you.”

Unable to think of any words, I just hug her, kiss her cheek, and tuck her back into bed. If Harry notices I’m crying almost the entire way over to Nick’s house, he doesn’t say anything, but he does keep a tight grip on my hand and before we walk through the door to Nick’s flat, he kisses me and whispers; “I told you you were a great big brother.”

It isn’t Nick who opens the door when we knock, but an older blond man who shoots right past us and down the hall. Nick comes running up after him in a dressing gown, an actual silk dressing gown for chrissake, and waves to the man who’s punching the down button on the elevator repeatedly.

“I had a lovely time!” Nick calls in a horribly obnoxious voice.

Harry pushes past him and into the flat, dropping his coat on one of the couches like he lives here. He doesn’t, of course, because he belongs with me and  _not_ Nick Grimshaw and I really need to get over this stupid jealousy crap.

“Who was that?” Harry asks as Nick finally rejoins us.

“Henry,” Nick sighs dreamily and pulls Harry into his arms. “I’m in love this time Hazza, I swear.”

Harry makes a face but hugs Nick back anyway. I wonder for a moment if he’s naked under that dressing gown but quickly decide I’d really rather not know.

“How was home?” Harry asks.

Nick scrunches his nose up and starts walking away dragging Harry with him and leaving me behind. There’s a metaphor in there somewhere, I’m sure. “Boring and snowy, darling. Nothing has changed.”

“Nothing?”

Nick stops and they both face each other. He reaches into the large pocket of the robe and pulls out a folded piece of paper, passing it to Harry with a somber nod. “Nothing. Go get us something to drink or something, love. Let me talk to your boyfriend.”

Harry stuffs the paper into his back pocket, but hesitates. His dark green eyes flicker to me and back to Nick’s quickly. “You promised remember?”

“I know I did.”

They stare at each other silently for a moment, Nick looking sad and Harry looking terrified, until Harry breaks. His chest heaves and his bottom lip quivers as he whimpers out, “Grimmy, please don’t.” I want to run to him but Nick beats me to it.

He pulls Harry in for another hug but it’s different this time. Harry gets lost somewhere in Nick’s arms and he looks so tiny in comparison to the older man. I’m extremely not jealous when Nick presses his lips to Harry’s ear and starts whispering something. Harry nods back at him and keeps listening while Nick brushes down his curls and rubs soothing circles into his back. When they finally separate Harry’s eyes are rimmed read and Nick is frowning.

“I promise, okay?”

Harry nods and wipes at his eyes a bit. “Don’t kill each other, alright?” He shoots me a small, watery smile and I nods back. With that, he disappears down the hall, probably to go read whatever it is Nick’s given him.

Nick is quiet for a moment. He leans across the back of the couch, his long limbs stretching out almost ridiculously far. He’s frowning at me so I frown right back, taking a defensive stance with my arms crossed over my chest.

“Are you fucking with him?” Nick blurts out.

“What?”

“I asked you if you’re fucking with him,” Nick repeats, his voice dropping into a growl. “Because Harry really likes you and I get the feeling that this is another one of your ‘I only love you when I’m drunk’ flings you seem to love so much. If it is I’m going to murder you, Tomlinson.”

My eyes widen and I almost want to punch him for even insinuating I’d use Harry. “No, I’m not-”

“Louis, Harry has it in his mind that everyone hates him. The instant you show him any affection he either thinks you’re lying to get something or he latches onto you for the rest of your goddamn life. You’re lucky enough, at this point, to be the latter, but he can switch right back at the drop of a hat. I’m warning you now if this is some sort of a joke to you, fucking around with a kid who thinks you hung the fucking stars, I have a spot already picked out to hide the body.”

I throw my hands up at that and back away, admittedly a bit scared of the crazy look in his eyes. “Alright, alright. Just stop with the fucking murder talk, okay? I want to live to see twenty-one if that’s alright with you.”

“It might not be.” He warns.

“What gives you any right, anyway?” I ask, frowning at him. “You didn’t know he was homeless, when was the last time you even spoke to him before he showed up at the studio with Zayn and I?”

Nick has the decency to at least look a bit hurt at this, but he doesn’t back off. Actually, he pulls himself up from the back of the couch, standing up straight probably in an attempt to intimidate me.

“The last time I spoke to Harry was the day he left. I had no idea he ranaway, no one had any idea he ranaway. His own fucking father is only just now reporting it. I thought he’d stopped talking to me, too busy with school or whatever. Don’t ever try to blame me for not knowing he left Louis because in case you haven’t noticed, Harry doesn’t always tell the truth.”

“What does that even mean?”

Nick looks from me to the hall where Harry went and shakes his head. “I can’t tell you.”

I scoff. “What? That’s bullshit.”

He raises an eyebrow at me. “Its what your boyfriend wants. You think that’s bullshit?”

“You set me up for that one, Nicholas.”

He smiles at this and finally just shrugs. “Whatever, alright? All of it still stands. I don’t want Harry crying to me about you, I don’t want a repeat of you kissing him at that bar, and I don’t want to hear anything about you getting drunk and being horrible to him. All I want to hear is sickeningly sweet things from Harry’s sickeningly sweet mouth about how sickening and sweetly in love you both are. If you aren’t good to him I’m not going to be good to you.”

“Liam never gave Harry this talk.” I find myself muttering, just so I don’t have to make a promise to Nick Grimshaw. That’s almost as bad as admitting he’s right, which he is of course. I don’t deserve anything as a sweet as Harry after what I’ve done to him.

Nick rolls his eyes and walks away calling, “That’s because Haz is an angel” over his shoulder and leaving me alone in the living room.

I follow soon after and find Harry crushed up against Nick again, hugging him tightly, but this time in what appears to be Nick’s bedroom.

“I don’t want him to hate me.” I can hear Harry murmur, and I know that must mean he hasn’t seen me come in yet.

To my surprise Nick doesn’t joke or tease. He’s sweet about it, actually, a side of Nick I’ve never really seen before. Harry seems to bring that side out of people though. “He doesn’t hate you, he couldn’t hate you. Hush now, pet, it’s alright.”

Harry turns his head and sees me. He bites at his lip, before waving with his fingers. “M’sorry Grimmy’s such an asshole, Loubear.”

“Hey!” Nick cries, pushing Harry away.

Harry stumbles back a bit but still grins up at Nick like he’s a god. I hold my arms out with a hopeful look and Harry soon joins me, pulling me in close. “I’m trying, Lou, I promise I really am.”

He doesn’t have to explain, he doesn’t have to tell me what he’s trying so hard to do because I already know. I know it’s hard for Harry to tell me things and it’s hard for him to open up and that leads me to the horrible realization that I understand why Nick just interrogated me. All he wants to do is protect the poor boy and I can relate to that. Not that anyone ever has to know, of course.

“I know you are babe, it’s alright.” I kiss Harry on the cheek and let him cuddle in my arms for a bit. Nick watches me, his arms crossed over that stupid robe, with something close to a smile on his face. I figure that’s probably the only approval I’m ever going to get from him.

We’re on our way out the door, hand in hand, when Nick reminds Harry about a New Years Eve party. “You can bring your little boyfriend, we can drop him from the terrace at midnight!” He jokes, and I slam his own door in his face.

“I really do love him.” Harry giggles to me when we ride the elevator back down.

I smile back and squeeze his hand. “I know you do, babe. I’ll tolerate him for you.”

Later on that night when Harry is sleeping curiosity gets the better of me. I slowly pull myself out of his arms and reach for the pants we was wearing earlier. The paper is still there, folded into his back pocket, and I almost consider putting it back because this  _has_ to be against some sort of boyfriend etiquette law, but I can’t. With one final glance back at Harry’s sleeping face, I unfold the paper and look it over.

It’s a flyer, it seems, with a picture of Harry in the middle which must be from a few years back because he has a lot more baby fat and his hair is shorter. Across the top in huge letters are the words MISSING CHILD and underneath is all of Harry’s information.

“Lou?” I snap up, almost crumpling the paper in an attempt to fold it back up and put it back in Harry’s pocket. I turn and see he still has his eyes closed but his arms are outstretched and searching for me. “Come back to bed.”

So I do, and I try not to think about the horrible bruise on Harry’s small face in that picture, or the fact that he was only reported missing a few weeks ago by a school teacher. Harry will explain, right? There has to be a logical explanation for this…I hope.


	17. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. Please do not hate me. I am the worst. 
> 
> Really though, I’m so sorry for the ridiculous wait (20 days Amory seriously?) and it will never happen again I promise. You can blame the stupid oneshit though for taking up all my time. Anyway, here we go

“I’m in love with you, Harry.”

“I know you are.”

“No, but you don’t understand,” Niall moans obscenely. “I am so in love with you, please marry me.”

As if sensing the conversation currently happening in his kitchen, Louis walks in and catches the tail end of Niall’s words. With a frown, he slaps Niall on the back of the head playfully.

“Stop that! He’s mine.” Louis pouts, throwing and arm around my waist and kissing my jaw.

When Louis and I showed up to pick Niall up from the airport only a few days ago it took him about point zero seconds to notice we were holding hands. He had shouted quite loudly about how his plan had worked and how he was a mastermind and then proceeded to jump on the two of us which caused a bit of a scene, but it’s Niall and he can apparently use his big blue puppy dog eyes on everyone including airport security. In short, and according to Zayn and Louis, Niall is more invested in our relationship than he ever was in any of his own. I thought that was a bit of an understatement until I caught him squealing at the sight of the two of us just sleeping in the same bed last night.

Apparently that doesn’t matter now though because he takes one look at Louis and grabs me. Louis lets out an indignant squawk while Niall pulls me over and wraps his arms over my chest in an x, trapping me. “No, he’s mine He’s my ham making boy, I found him first!”

Louis narrows his eyes and crosses his arms, playing along. “I found him second!”

“Do I get a say?” I pipe up.

Niall shakes his head and tries to pull me out of the room, stopped only by my hand on the counter. “No, mine,” then, in a gruffer voice he bellows, “Me Niall, you Harry.”

“Louis, your friend is weird.”

All three of us turn to find Lottie has just walked in and is staring at Niall like he’s some sort of creature in a zoo. I feel a bit like a child being caught by his mother and I’m assuming the other two do as well because we each take a half step away from one another guiltily.

“Why don’t you like me, Small Tomlinson?” Niall asks, keeping one arm around me so I can’t go too far. He doesn’t seem to notice that Louis’ trying to burn a hole through said arm with his eyes, which amuses me to no end.

“Probably because you keep calling her Small Tomlinson.” I say, finally managing to pull away from him so I can throw away the scraps of the ham Niall was picking apart and eating with his fingers like an animal. He was a little too happy with it, hence the marriage proposal.

Lottie and Niall bicker back and forth for a bit while I clean the kitchen until there’s a sudden wait pressing into my back and trapping me against the counter. “Are you ready to leave soon, love?” Louis asks, his lips against my neck.

“Are you?” I murmur back.

Louis sighs and shakes his head. “M’never gonna be.” I feel his head move and I know he’s turned to look back at his sister with those sad eyes he’s been giving her more and more often over the past few days.

“At least you aren’t hungover.” I tease, trying to lighten his mood a bit.

Louis laughs loudly at that and shrugs, because it’s true. Last night was Nick’s New Year’s party and I somehow managed to keep him from drinking too much and he was surprisingly okay with it. I’m not sure if it was because he knew Lottie was waiting for us back home along with Liam and Zayn or if he’s’ really trying to grow past using alcohol as a crutch, but I got my New Year’s kiss and neither of us regretted it and that made me feel better.

“Speaking of Grimshaw, did you get his car keys last night?”

I nod, biting my lip to keep my smile away. “He slipped them into my back pocket before we left.”

Louis and Nick have made no progress at all in being civil towards one another, in fact when I asked Nick if we could borrow his car to take Lottie home, Louis suddenly had very important business and needed to find Niall to attend to it.

 _He’s kind of cute when he’s jealous_ , I think, looking at the face Louis makes at the mention of Nick.

“Hey, Haz do you have a license?” Louis asks, all curiosity. It takes him only moments to notice the stricken look on my face and he quickly shakes his head. “It’s alright babe, touchy subject?” I nod and he kisses me once again on the back of the neck until I turn around so we’re facing each other.

“M’sorry-”

“Don’t be,” Louis murmurs, kissing me in short little pecks until my lips finally curl into a reluctant smile. “We’ve all the time in the world, love.”

_Except we might not have all the time in the world._

With one last quick kiss to my lips, Louis drags Lottie away from Niall and back out into the living room to help her fold up the air mattress she used when Niall reclaimed his bed and pack her things. I have every intention of going out and helping them, but I can’t stop thinking of the flier Nick had given me. I ripped it to pieces the next day and threw it into the trash before anyone could see, but there’s that worry in the back of my mind now.

Thinking of it spurs me to grab my phone- Louis’ phone really, I always remind myself-and text Nick quickly.

_Have you heard anything from your mum?_

By the time I’ve finished cleaning up the remnants of breakfast, Nick’s texted back with,  _Nothing yet darling I’ll let you know now shhh I’m sleeping._

I roll my eyes and put my phone back into my sweatpants pocket to rejoin everyone else in the living room. I take a seat next to Niall on the floor and let him pull and tug gently at my hair until I’m slumped against his side and half asleep. Gemma always used to do this for me when I had nightmares or a particularly bad day because it would put me to sleep in nearly seconds.

“Haz, baby.” A soft voice coos in my ear. I shake my head against what I assume is Niall and the voice turns into a chuckle. “We’re leaving soon, do you still wanna go or do you want to trap Niall here a little longer?”

At this, I blink my eyes open and scowl at Louis who’s leaning down next to me. “M’going with you, stop trying to get me not to.” I mumble.

“He’s snippy when he’s tired.” I hear Zayn chuckle from the couch.

“Fuck off.” I mumble, rolling around slightly and landing with my head in Niall’s lap. There’s a chorus of laughs and I just squeeze my eyes shut tighter, trying to get in a last few seconds of sleep.

Niall scratches fondly behind my ear and then moves slightly so I know he wants to get up. When I sit up again and open my eyes I see everyone else is laughing and smiling except Louis, who’s frowning thoughtfully. He walks with me back to his room so I can change and is still frowning at me when he throws himself down on the bed.

“Why are you so sleepy, babe?”

“I didn’t sleep well last night,” I mutter, slipping on one of my jumpers. “Alcohol gives me nightmares.”

Louis makes a little noise in the back of his throat and pouts. While I try to find a beanie in one of his drawers, he comes up behinds me and squeezes my hip so I’ll turn to look at him and I’m immediately pulled into his arms. “Wake me up next time. I don’t want you to be scared and alone.” He murmurs, his lips to my ear.

I close my eyes and sigh, hugging him back twice as hard. “I wasn’t alone, you were right there next to me.” I remind him.

“Yeah but..” Louis doesn’t finish his sentence, just tugs me in tighter and kisses my cheek before letting me go. He fixes the beanie I’ve picked out with a fond smile and leaves the room, calling out to Lottie and asking if she’s ready to leave.

The goodbye to the rest of the boys is teary and something I’d really rather not have to relive at any point in time. Seeing Liam cry is horrible. He resembles a sad, kicked puppy and I have to urge to comfort him myself but Zayn does that of course. After hugging Lottie for longer than any of the other boys did Liam sort of collapsed against his boyfriend and started sniffling through his tears.

“I told my mom Lots, and if…if ever you need somewhere to go, she’s there. Promise me you’ll go if you have to, or even if you just want to, at least until Louis or I can come and pick you up.” Liam mumbles. He tries to wipe at the tears in his eyes with his shaky hands but fails, so Zayn does it for him with the sleeve of his jumper. Lottie nods, watching on with her own eyes a glassy blue eyes and it hits me that besides Louis, Liam and his family are all Lottie might have if her mother disowns her.

I wonder, if only briefly, what would have happened to me if I was that close to anyone besides my sister.

“You better be good to him.” Lottie croaks out to Zayn who laughs and envelopes her into a hug.

Niall comes next with a small,  _See you soon Small Tomlinson_ , and Lottie punches him in the shoulder. Louis and I gather up her things while she gives Liam one last hug and walks out of the flat, angrily wiping at her face. Louis follows and I’m about to go as well when someone pulls me back by my shoulder.

It’s Liam, his lower lip wobbling and tears still welling up in his eyes. “You’ll take care of him, yeah?” he pleads. “Harry, she’s going to be horrible, please-”

“I promise Li,” I put my hand over his and squeeze gently. “I’ll take care of him for you.”

Liam pulls me in before I can even finish the sentence, his stronger body practically crushing me to his chest in a hug. “I’m so glad he has you, Haz. You’re so good for him.” He whispers directly into my ear.

I cringe a bit but nod back, not protesting when he repeats his words again.  _Louis deserves so much better than me, Liam, why can’t you see that?_

Zayn somehow manages to coax Liam away so they can join Niall on the couch to cuddle and watch telly, and I finally join Louis and Lottie back out in the hall. Louis’s looking at me strangely but says nothing, just keeps a firm hold on my hand on the way to Nick’s to get his car.

“Why doesn’t Louis like this Nick person?” Lottie asks me, quite loudly once we have her belongings stashed away and we’re buckling our seat belts.

I try to stifle a laugh, glancing over at Louis who’s starting the car with a scowl. “Yeah Lou, why don’t you like Grimmy?” I sing-song.

“Because he looks at my boyfriend like he’s a big hungry bear and Harry’s a piece of meat.” Louis peels away from Nick’s flat and almost sends the hysterical Lottie flying. She doesn’t stop laughing though and practically keels over when I cross my arms over my chest and move away from Louis’ hand that’s searching for mine.

“Not nice.” I mumble.

Louis takes his eyes off the road just to grin at me. “Oh, come on Haz. M’trying to be nice to him but he’s sort of insufferable.”

“You should let me meet your friends from back home,” I mutter. “See how insufferable they are.”

“You know Liam-”

“Liam doesn’t count,” I interrupt him, raising my voice so the giggling Lottie can hear me as well. “Liam couldn’t say a bad word about someone if his life depended on it. Plus, I haven’t slept with Liam.”

At this point, Lottie sounds like she’s choking back there and Louis’ eyes have gone impossibly wide. I smirk and he reaches across the console to slap me on the arm. “Well I should hope not.” He murmurs, trying to school his smile into a frown.

“Lou’s always had horrible taste in boys,” Lottie pipes up. “You’re the first one I’ve actually liked…and the first one he didn’t introduce as a ‘friend’ and sneak off to snog-”

“Shutup Lottie, Christ.” Louis snaps, blushing up to the tips of his little ears. Feeling bold, I look back to wink at Lottie and take Louis’ hand back in mine.

For the rest of the ride the three of us are mostly quiet. Louis whispers for me to try to sleep some more but I end up just closing my eyes and trying calm my stomach down. I’ve been worrying since I woke up this morning about what might happen when we finally get to Louis’ mum’s house.

 _Will she yell at me?_ I think, squeezing Louis’ hand once just at the thought.  _What if she yells at Louis? What am I supposed to do? What if I start crying like the idiot I am-_

“Louis you don’t have to come in.” Lottie’s hesitant voice wakes me up, even though I hadn’t realized I’d fallen asleep in the midst of all my worrying.

Louis brings a hand to my hair and ruffles it softly. His eyes aren’t on me though, they’re on the house behind me that looks like every other house on the street but it must be his. With a shake of his head, Louis kisses my forehead and turns the car off.

“Yes I do, Lottie. You aren’t dealing with her by yourself. C’mon.”

His sister looks between the two of us, before giving in with a heavy sigh. The three of us get out of the car, Lottie and Louis looking at the house mournfully while I get Lottie’s things from the boot of the car. When we start to make our way up the walk, Louis reaches for my hand and intertwines our fingers with a small, worried glance.

“I’m right here.” I whisper, just so he knows. Louis nods and doesn’t let go like I half-expected him to when the door swings open.

Louis’ mother is not at all what I expected. Come to think of it though, I’m not entirely sure what I had expected. Maybe not even a person, maybe a monster who saw it fit to kick out her only son just for being gay. What I get instead is a beautiful woman about Louis’ height if not shorter with a sour expression and more than one cross draped around her neck.

“Charlotte,” she growls, eying Louis and I like we’ve actually kidnapped her daughter. “Get in the house. Now.”

Lottie takes a step back and right into me. I don’t mind of course, because even though we’ve only known each other a week I care for this girl and if she’s scared I want to protective her. She is my boyfriend’s baby sister, after all. Louis’ mother’s cold eyes follow my hand as it travels down over Lottie’s hair and to her shoulder.

“Mum, please,” Louis whispers, his voice sounding hollow and far away even though he’s right beside me. “Can’t we just talk about this?”

His mother rolls her eyes. “I have no interest in speaking to someone like you.” She spits.

“Don’t talk to him like that.” I blurt out. Everyone turns to look at me, looking surprised that I spoke. I blush but don’t cower like I normally would, wanting to keep up a brave face for Louis.

Louis’ mother’s eyes rake over me and land on our linked hands with a small noise of recognition. “Louis never even liked boys before, has he told you that?” she asks, her voice all judgment. “He always had girlfriends until-”

“Until I grew the fuck up and realized you don’t get to control every aspect of my life!” Louis snaps. “And don’t ever speak to my boyfriend that way again.”

Lottie’s started crying, I notice. She tries to hide it but she’s doing a terrible job of it. Unable to help myself, I reach over and gently brush her hair back with a small smile to her, whispering that’ll it’ll be okay.

“Mum, please just let me in,” Louis starts again. “We have a lot we need to talk about and I just…I just want to see the girls. Please.”

Louis’ mum grunts a bit but turns to go back into the house. She leaves the door open behind her though, which is the only invitation we get into the home. Louis tugs at my hand and leads the two of us out of the small hallway and into what I assume is the living room.

There are school pictures of the girls displayed proudly all over the walls as well as a few trophies and other miscellaneous things normal parents are proud of. I can’t help but notice the odd spacing between some the pictures and by the look on Louis’ face, I know that’s where pictures of him must have hung. The thought of his mother taking down every single one of his photos, even his baby ones, makes me want to start crying but I can’t. I need to keep my promise to Liam, I need to take care of him.

In the middle of the room in front of the tv are three girls, two identical who must be Daisy and Phoebe, and the other only slightly younger than Lottie who must be Felicite. They’re all the spitting image of Louis which makes me smile, just a bit.

“Louis!” One of the twins shrieks. The other two look up as well and despite their mother’s protests, they all fling themselves at Louis. He lets go of my hand and wraps both arms around the girls, sinking to his knees in front of them and crying along with them.

“I knew Mum lied,” the other twin whispers. “I knew you weren’t dead, I knew you wouldn’t ever leave us.”

Louis lets out a short sob and shakes his head. “Never Daise, I’d never, ever leave you like that. I’m so sorry girls, I’m so  _so_ sorry.”

He has nothing to be sorry for, I want to say. His mother is the one who should be sorry, she’s the one who took him away from his sisters. She’s the one currently looking on at the scene like Louis is something evil, something to be afraid of.

Lottie drops her duffel bag on the floor and hugs the girls as well, smiling when Felicite scolds her for leaving her home. When Louis stands up again he has one twin on each hip and he’s grinning at me so joyously that I can’t help but to grin right back.

“They’ve practically turned into adults without me,” he teases, making the twins giggle “Girls, this is Harry. Harry these are my girls-all of them this time.”

“Harry is Louis’  _boooyfriend_.” Lottie teases, laughing when Louis shoots her a look.

Felicite’s gasps as bit and she elbows Louis around one of the twins. “Lou, he’s cute,” she whispers, not at all discreetly. “Oh my goodness.”

“Lottie and Louis, in the kitchen please.” Louis’ mother commands, obviously meaning this is the last straw.

Louis reluctantly puts the twins down and ruffles their hair. “I’ll be back girls, I promise,” he says, before pointing to me. “Play with Harry while I’m gone, he loves having his makeup done.”

“I hate you.” I mumble, but the way the girl’s eyes light up makes me smile anyway. Louis passes me with a soft, chaste kiss that sends the girls into a giggling fit, and leaves the room along with Lottie and his mother.

The three girls stare at me for a little while until I clear my throat and take a seat on the floor. Each of them follows, one of the twins sitting closest to me and looking me over suspiciously.

“Do you kiss my brother a lot?” She asks, finally.

“Daisy!” Felicite hisses.

“I um, I don’t-” I sputter, until Phoebe laughs at me.

“You don’t have to answer her,” she says, poking Daisy in the leg. “We mostly ignore her anyway.”

Daisy makes a low whining noise and pokes her sister back. This starts a full out poking war between the two of them that I watch over with a smile until Felicite stops them, telling them they’re embarrassing themselves in front of me. I start to tell her I don’t mind when I hear Louis shouting in the kitchen.

“I will not let you do that to her, she’s too young!” he yells, prompting a squeak out of one of the twins. “If you kick her out I swear I’ll come back for every single one of those girls and I’d love to see you try and stop me.”

Phoebe, who I can only tell is Phoebe given the fact she’s wearing purple while Daisy is in pink, starts to cry. “Mummy’s going to get rid of L-Lottie! She’s going to make her go away-”

“Hey, it’s alright,” I whisper, opening my arms up and motioning her forward. “No one’s going to make Lottie go away, I promise. She’s staying right here with you.” After giving me a careful once over, Phoebe deems me safe and crawls up into my lap, letting me hug her back.

“A-And Louis will stay too?”

Felicite answers that one for me with a small scoff. “No, Fee don’t be daft. He has Harry now and a place in London and school. He doesn’t want to be stuck here with us forever.” She’s doing her best to sound aloft, I can tell, but the hurt in her eyes is obvious.

“That isn’t true,” I correct her. “Louis does have school and a home in London, but none of that will ever mean more to him then you, okay? He loves you all so much, you’re all he talks about.”

Daisy, who has burrowed her way under Felicite’s arm now, smiles. “Lou loves us, Fizzy. I told you.”

“If your mother says yes, Louis really wants you guys to come visit sometime,” I say, knowing I shouldn’t be making promises I’m not sure either of us can keep but unable to stop the words as they fall out of my mouth. “We can show you guys around like we did with Lottie. You can see Liam, too.”

“Liam’s cute,” Phoebe says, quietly. “Cute like you, ’cept he’s kind of my brother and that’s not allowed.”

If I wasn’t already laughing at that, I would when Felicite sighs sadly and says; “All the cute ones are gay, Fee, trust me.”

My laughter effectively breaks the ice and prompts the twins to break out their coloring books. I talk with Fizzy-as she insists I call her-animatedly about London while she listens with sparkling eyes. I can tell she wants to go and I can’t really blame her, I always wanted to get out of my small hometown and even though hers isn’t even close to being as small as mine was, I can definitely connect to her wanting for more.

Phoebe proudly presents me with a picture of Louis and I holding hands and grinning, complete with a sunglasses wearing sun and my curly hair. Daisy then demands I describe Zayn and Niall to her and soon after her sister, she hands me a picture of all five of us in our flat eating a pizza and saying, “Daisy is the coolest!” When I assure them I love both pictures it sparks their creativity and soon I’m being loaded down with drawings for myself and each of the other boys as well.

Louis gets a little loud now and then in the kitchen, demanding that his mother just  _listen_ to him, but it doesn’t seem to bother any of the girls. They’re too busy trying to get me to tell them knock knock jokes and finding the exact crayola color for my hair. I’m too busy indulging them to remember that the yelling should be scaring me.

They’re lovely girls, I find out. Despite being raised with a mother so hateful they’re so happy and Felicite is surprisingly accepting of her brother and I, and her sister. She even tells me with a proud smile that she was the first person Lottie told when she got a girlfriend. I half expected to find them just as bitter as their mother but thankfully they’re so much more like their brother; mischievous and giggly and beautiful.

 _Louis must be so proud_ , I think with a smile.

Sooner than I expected, Lottie, Louis, and their mother return from the kitchen. Louis’s been crying and so has Lottie, and even their mother’s eyes are a bit glassy. Seeing me surrounded by his younger siblings seems to cheer Louis up a bit, though, and when I give him all the drawings he starts laughing.

“They’re absolutely beautiful, lovelies,” he assures the twins. “Harry and I need something to hang up over our bed anyway.”

I pull myself up and Louis smiles at me. “Everything alright?” I whisper, while his mother tells all the girls to hurry up and come say goodbye.

Louis bites his lip, and smiles. “Yeah, I’m fine.” It’s such a lie and I can tell it’s a lie, which is odd. Louis is usually so good at lying, something he’s reminded me of about a million times since I’ve met him.

The girls all line up near the door and Louis looks each of them over, before blinking back up to his mother. “And I can see them,” he asks, carefully. “You’ll let me come and get the girls when they have time off school?”

His mother stares at him and then sighs loudly, as if this thing is horribly trying for her. It makes me a lot angrier than it should.

“I hope you don’t expect anything of me Louis,” she snarls. “I’ve already told you before you left I no longer think of you as a son. Don’t think that just because I’m kind enough not to take my daughters away from their brother means I want anything to do with you.”

With just these few words, Louis’ mother crushes him. I can see the way his face falls and the way his shoulders slump and the anger inside me only grows. Louis clears his throat and nods, saying nothing else to his mother and instead moving on to say goodbye to each of his sisters.

He kisses each of them on their cheeks and hugs them, wiping away their tears and smiling through his own. From where I’m standing I can hear him whispering, telling him that he’ll be back for them as soon as he can so they can come meet Niall and Zayn and see Liam. He promises to call them every night and apologizes over and over again for being such a bad brother, for not calling, for letting them believe he wasn’t there for them.

And that, out of everything that’s happened today, that is what breaks me.

“You’re missing out you know,” I say, a little louder than I intended to Louis’ mother raises an eyebrow at me and I’m almost afraid to keep talking, but I do. “Louis is an absolutely amazing person. I’ve never met anyone as selfless as he is, I’ve never met anyone who loves his family and his friends as much as he does, and I have never in my life met anyone who has been treated so horribly by a person who’s supposed to love him unconditionally and turned out as beautiful as Louis has.

“You tried to ruin him for something he couldn’t control and you almost did, but Louis survived. And he’s going to survive, he’s going to be so fucking happy without you in his life and you’re going to miss out on all of that, but I think you deserve that. I don’t think you should get to see how happy he’s going to be after everything you’ve put him through. You don’t deserve to experience the beautiful person that Louis is.

“And someday when these girls realize what you did to him, and when they see how you treat their brother and Lottie, they’re going to leave too. That’s what you deserve. You deserve to feel just as lonely and unloved and unwanted as you made Louis feel for the past seven years of his life, because he is never going to feel that way again. I can promise you that.”

By the time I finish speaking I can hardly catch my breath I’m so angry. There’s so much more I want to say, so much I wish I had said, but I have to stop. Even if Louis’ mother is terrible she’s still his mother and she’s still a mother to these girls and I don’t have it in me to spell out just how disgusting I find her in front of them. Maybe if they weren’t there I could. Maybe if they were gone and it were just her and I, I could tell her how she managed to make Louis hate such a large part of himself and watch for any sign of remorse, any sign of guilt.

All I’m getting now are tears welling up in her eyes and a twitching nose. She deserves that, at least.

Going with my instinct and walk past Louis’ mother to give each one of the girls a hug, ending with Lottie who wraps her arms around my neck tightly and kisses my cheek. “Thank you,” she murmurs in my ear. “Thank you so much Harry.”

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” I chuckle back.

“Got your number and everything, there’s no getting rid of me now.” She giggles. With one last kiss to my cheek, she gets back on her feet and waves at me with the rest of her sisters.

I’m prepared to leave Louis there, maybe to talk to his mother a bit more, but he takes my hand when I try to pass him. I expect him to be angry with me but when I chance a look at him, he’s smiling softly at me. He almost looks proud.

There’s a final goodbye to his sisters, and Louis whispering to Lottie about her promise to Liam, and we leave without another word to his mother. I can see her though as we pull away, standing in the doorway and just watching us with a blank expression, the twins at her feet and waving with teary smiles.

Louis isn’t alright. He drives silently but I can hear him taking deep measured breaths and his hands are white knuckled where they’re gripping the steering wheel. It isn’t until we’re at least ten minutes away from the house that he screams, “Fuck!”, and pulls the car over onto the shoulder. He screams again, his face going red, and finally just drops his head to the steering wheel.

I grab onto the dash to steady myself, my heart quickening at how the cars behind us blare by with honking horns, but I can’t focus on myself right now. Louis needs me and all my needs come second to his right now.

“Lou, it’s alright,” I whisper, reaching for him even though I’m unsure how to comfort him best. “Come on, babe, its okay. They’re going to be fine-”

“It isn’t that,” he sobs, shaking his head. “I feel so fucking-Harry I just feel so fucking stupid!” Louis’ last few words come out in another terrifying scream and he slams his hands down on the steering wheel hard. Out of instinct, I cower as far back as I can into a corner, but Louis doesn’t notice. He’s too busy crying and tugging at his hair angrily.

Taking a deep breath, I reach over again but this time to turn the car off and drop the keys into the cup holder just in case. I get out of the car, careful of the cars speeding past me that neither stop nor slow while I slowly walk to the driver’s side.

I open the door and Louis looks up at me, eyebrows pulled together in confusion. His eyes that I love so much are wet with tears like they should never have to be and his small hands are held to his heaving chest, resting over his heart almost protectively. I swallow back my own tears and motion for him to move so I can sit and then promptly pull him into my lap.

Once Louis’ settled, his crying starts up again. His hands find my t-shirt that he’s wetting with tears and he grabs on for dear life, like I might try to pull away at any moment. He keeps repeating over and over again,  _stupid I’m so stupid_ and I want to scold him for it, but I can’t bring myself to do it.

“Why doesn’t she love me Harry?” He asks, finally.

My blood runs cold and I choke on a gasp. When I realize what he’s asking I can only wrap my arms even tighter and shake my head. “I don’t know Lou-I don’t-”

“I just want her to love me again,” he whimpers. “And it’s so stupid, I feel so stupid for wanting her to love me after what she’s done to me but I don’t…she’s my mum, Harry. What have I done that was so bad?”

“Nothing,” I say, quickly. “Baby, none of this is any of your fault. She’s the one who’s doing something wrong, alright? Remember what you told Lottie? Your mother is the wrong one here, not you.”

Louis sniffles and shakes his head. “I tried so hard,” he whispers. “I tried to show her I could be a good brother, I could be a good son. I feel so fucking stupid for ever believing this could change something.”

“You aren’t stupid, Louis. You are not stupid for wanting that, not at all okay?”

“Why doesn’t she love me,” Louis continues to whisper against my chest. “Why can’t my mum just love me?”

And I don’t have an answer, so I tug him closer, kiss his neck, and let him rest his head on my shoulder. That’s when the answer comes to me. I think I’ve always sort of known it, even when I’d just woken up the first day at the flat and found him sitting beside me and smiling down on me like an angel. Now might not be the ideal time but Louis needs to hear it. Nodding a bit to myself, I bring my lips to his temple.

“I love you,” I whisper, fear making my voice shake. “Okay? I love you, Louis. Liam, Zayn, and Niall they love you. Your sisters love you. We’re your family Lou, and you don’t need her. You don’t need her because we love you so fucking much Louis, so much, just how you are now.”

Louis stays silent for a bit which worries me, but does look up eventually. His crying has ceased but he still has small little hiccups and he’s chewing on his already red and bruised lip. I reach forward and tug it from between his teeth, not wanting for him to hurt himself, but to Louis apparently that’s an invitation because he jumps at me.

With the smallest smile, he wraps his arms around my neck and kisses me breathless. And I let him because even though we should be talking about this, Louis wants to feel it. He just wants to feel loved and I want for him to feel loved back.

“Thank you Harry,” he whispers, once he’s moved to curl up against my chest, looking so tiny with his head leaning against my collarbone. “For what you said to my mum and…for always knowing what to say. Thank you.”

He’s wrong of course. I don’t always know what to say, half the time I spend around Louis is spent trying to gain control of myself, trying to find words and trying to keep up with him. Whenever I say anything to him there’s always the fear there that he’ll be angry, or he’ll think I’m an idiot, or even worse he’ll laugh at me. Louis never does though, because he’s Louis and I don’t think he could ever really be mean. He teases, sure, and his jokes sometimes go a bit too far, but Louis can’t be truly malicious. Not like his mother can.

“Thank you for saving me, Lou” I murmur. I don’t ever tell him that enough, and I never will. There will never be enough words to thank Louis for all that he’s done for me.

Louis smiles against my skin and reaches for my hand. He kisses each of my knuckles one at a time, and then grabs for my paper airplane necklace that I haven’t taken off since he gave it to me. “Pretty sure you saved me.” He murmurs.

I just laugh and let it slide, because Louis has no idea what he means to me yet, but I have every intention of showing him while I can.

 


	18. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this is a biit shorter than most of the chapters but it’s the last one before everything gets even crazier so enjoy!!

It’s been two weeks since I went to Doncaster. Two weeks since I’ve seen my sisters, two weeks since I blew up in the car, two weeks since Harry had to console me for hours on the side of the road, and it’s gone a hell of a lot better than I thought it would have. I call Lottie every night like I promised I would and talk to all the girls about their days, listen to the twins tell me about their most recent play dates, listen to Fizz complain about a boy, make sure my mother hasn’t been treating Lottie any differently. It’s good, for the most part, except for Harry.

Harry has been having nightmares every single night for two weeks straight.

Sometimes they’re not as bad, he doesn’t even wake me even though I beg him too, and the only reason I even know is because I’ll come home to find him fast asleep on our bed. Other times they’re horrible, and he’ll wake up screaming and kicking and begging and I don’t know what to do so I just hold him and pray he’ll be okay when he wakes up sobbing in my arms. Each time he burrows against my chest and whisper things I can’t make out and count his breathing and apologize for nothing.

And it’s not that I mind, of course I don’t ind, but it’s honestly scaring the living hell out of me.

Last night was particularly horrible He woke not only once but twice, the first time waking me up and the second time staying in the fetal position and whimpering until I woke up.

“Love, stay home today,” I whisper, brushing his curls away so I can kiss his forehead. “You’re exhausted.”

Harry shakes his head despite the fact that he has noticeable dark circles under his eyes. “No, gotta work-”

“One day isn’t going to kill you,” I scold him. “Please stay home and rest, okay? For me?”

Harry groans a bit but nods and rolls out of my lap so he can lay back down on the bed. Glancing at the clock I decide there’s enough time to lay down beside him and play big spoon. He reaches for my hand and sighs.

“M’sorry, Lou.”

“I just wish I could understand, Hazza,” I murmur against the back of his neck. “I feel like I’m not helping at all, babe.”

As soon as I say it Harry starts to shake his head. “No, you are helping Lou. I promise you are, it’s just…it’s just worse lately.”

“Why lately.”

Harry’s eyes shut and he shakes his head again. “I don’t want you to think of me differently.” He mumbles, his lips pressing together until they’re almost white.

“I couldn’t ever.” I promise.

Harry says nothing else. While the rest of us slowly wake up and eat cereal like old times, Harry stays laying in bed half asleep. He comes out only when we’re about to leave, bleary eyed with the duvet pulled up around his shoulders and trailing behind him.

He gives the four of us a dopey smile and wipes at his eyes. “Called Nick, says its fine.” He yawns.

“’Course it’s fine,” Zayn speaks up. “And I’ll try to come home for a bit for lunch, yeah? Just try to sleep and I’ll bring you lunch.”

Harry wrinkles his nose in that cute way he does when he’s too tired to keep his eyes open. “You don’t have to-”

“I want to babe, alright?” Zayn assures him. Harry nods and smiles again when Zayn steps forward to hug him around the shoulders and kiss him on the forehead. “You want Nick too? Would that make you feel better?”

A surprised laugh comes from Harry and he pushes Zayn away gently. “You’re an arse.”

After chuckling a bit, Zayn takes Liam’s hand and leads him out the door along with Niall, all chorusing their goodbyes. I wait up, pulling Harry into my arms and breathing in the scent of my own shampoo and the fabric softener Liam uses. And it’s just pure Harry.

“If you need anything at all call me or one of the boys, we’ll be here in a heartbeat.”

I can feel Harry smiling against the skin of my neck. “I’ll call Niall, he’s my cuddler.”

Smiling, I pull back just so I can kiss his cute scrunched up nose. “You’ll call me, baby, won’t you?”

“Of course I will, idiot. Go to school, do your homework, learn something. Give me a kiss.” I laugh and let him give me a quick peck on the lips before he strides off, taking his bedsheet cape to the couch where he collapses and grabs for the remote.

When I don’t leave, he lifts a hand up over the back of the couch to wave at me. “Bye, Louis.”

I grin and wave back even though he might not even see. “Goodbye, Harry.” There’s an  _I love you_ on the tip of my tongue but I don’t say it. He hasn’t said it again, not since the car, and I know he didn’t mean it in an  _I’m_ in _love with you_  way but I still want to say it back. So badly.

Harry burrows deeper into the blankets to watch tv while I reluctantly join the rest of our group further down the road on the way to the tube. Niall throws an arm around my shoulder when I run up and smacks a kiss on the side of my head.

“He’ll be fine Lou, don’t worry about it.”

“Maybe he should take a sleeping pill.” Zayn says with a shrug.

“It’s just the nightmares though,” I say with a frown. “I’m surprised he doesn’t wake you guys up.”

“Sometimes,” Niall admits with a small shrug of his shoulders. “You’ve got him though, haven’t you?”

I smile a bit to myself and nod. “Yeah, I’ve got him.”

Niall somehow keeps his arm around my shoulder until we split up for class, he heading off to yet another breakfast, and I going to meet with my counselor, the one who ran the internship program. She’s the one I submitted my paper to and she’s the one I’m absolutely terrified to meet because she determines whether or not I get credit for the internship at all. I should at least get some for dealing with Mrs. Baker’s ridiculous flirting since the fall, if you ask me.

After waiting around for a bit I’m lead into a quintessential office with a desk calender and everything. The counselor is smiling at me and I instantly feel horrible because I cannot for the life of me remember her name. It starts with an A, I think. Maybe.

“Louis, so far we’ve received amazing reviews from the staff,” she starts off with, which is good I guess, but I just want to know whether or not I passed. “Your paper as well was quite close to perfect. We’re all very proud of you?”

Who the hell is we? “Yeah well,” I say instead. “I like to teach.”

A-something smiles and nods a bit. “So I can tell,” She hands me a marked up version of the paper I submitted and then something else on top of it. “In fact, that’s part of the reason I wanted to speak with you today.”

“I didn’t fail, did I?” I blurt out.

The counselor looks up, surprised, and then bursts out laughing. “No Louis, you didn’t fail. You’re getting full credit actually,” She says, pointing to the paper she’s handed me. I raise my eyebrows when I see that it’s an application. “I got a call earlier today from the teacher you assisted. She’s told me that they’re looking for someone to help with a drama camp this summer at the school. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t count for credit but it is payed and it’ll look fantastic on your resume. You’ll be making connections as well Louis, and I’d highly recommend you think it over.”

I don’t quite believe her so I snatch the application and look it over. Sure enough, there’s already a recommendation attached from Mrs. Baker which makes me smile. Say what you will about it, but my arse can definitely take me places.

“I’ll think it over,” I say, though I fully intend to start filling it out the minute I leave her office. “Thank you so much.”

When we stand up and shake hands I suddenly remember her name is Alex which makes me smile even wider when she says; “You’re welcome, Louis.”

The minute I’m safely out of her office with the door closed I scream a little bit and jump up and down. A younger looking girl stops to stare at me until I glare back and she’s quickly on her way. Before I head to my next class I form a text to Liam, Niall, and Zayn.

_So turns out flirting with a middle aged woman is helpful I got full credit and possibly a job for the summer xx._

They all reply with their various congratulations and tell me how proud they are and I don’t even try to hide the giant grin on my face. I don’t text Harry and tell him, not yet. He’s probably sleeping and besides, I want to tell him to his face and see the way his eyes will light up and the how he’ll smile at me.

After texting Lottie, just because I can, I go to my next class. Liam, Niall and I all get lunch later on and Niall tries to help me fill out my application but mostly keeps bugging me and leaving ink dots on my hand. When I get to my next and last class- a three hour lecture on the history of theater that makes me want to cry everytime I even think about it- the application is mostly filled out and ready to be dropped back off with a copy o me resume.

I try texting Harry but he doesn’t answer so I assume he’s asleep until about an hour into a rousing speech on Shakespeare when my phone starts to buzz across the desk. It’s Zayn calling so I frown and ignore it. Zayn hates phone conversations, I’m pretty sure he goes out of his way to avoid them, so it was probably accidental. Plus he knows I’m in class.

 _Answer your phone_ , he texts me next, and then my phone starts buzzing again.

Groaning and ignoring all the dirty looks I’m getting, I pack up all my things and answer on my way out the door.

“Yes Zaynie?”

“Lou you have to come home right now, something’s wrong with Harry.” Zayn whispers back, his voice unusually high and panicky.

It seems like a joke so I scoff at him. “Did you try to cut his hair again? You can’t really blame him for being pissed off-”

“Christ, Louis, no! He was just…hold on.”

There’s some shuffling in the background and I can suddenly hear sniffling. It’s Harry and between his coughing and crying he’s whimpering something that sounds dangerously close to my name. “I know Harry, I’m calling him right now okay?” Zayn murmurs. “Lou, he was just taking a nap after we ate and started screaming I don’t know what to do. He keeps asking for you, though.”

I groan a bit and push my hair back from my face. “I’m coming home, I’ll be there I…fuck, Zayn it’s going to be awhile I don’t even know when the next train is-”

“I texted Grimmy.”

“You did what?”

Zayn lets out a loud frustrated noise and when he starts speaking again its in a low, growling whisper. “Put you fucking ego away for ten seconds Louis, alright? You need to get home right now and Nick is the only one willing to drive you and the only one who has any fucking clue what’s happening. Get in the damn car and come help Harry.”

I lean back against the wall just to massage my temples for a bit. The thing is I know I’m being an idiot about the whole Nick situation but I can’t help it. It bugs me that Nick knows things I don’t about Harry and it bugs me that Harry probably goes to Nick about things instead of me and I know it’s selfish and jealous, but I can’t help it. Not when Harry still hasn’t even mentioned that poster I found of him and not when he’s still waking up from nightmares every damn night and refusing to talk about it.

“Alright, fine,” I mutter, if only because I can hear Harry asking for me in the background. “Tell him I’ll be there. And if you could just sort of…like brush his hair a bit? With your fingers, I mean, like scratch at his scalp. It’ll usually calm him down.”

“Okay Lou,” Zayn says, his voice much softer this time. “I’m trying, I promise.”

I hang up and head outside to the front of the building. I’m prepared to text Nick when I spot his lanky body leaning on his stupid hipster car, watching me with an unamused frown from underneath his sunglasses. Who wears sunglasses in January anyway? With a discreet roll of my eyes, I walk the rest of the way over and we get into the car without a single word.

For awhile it seems as though he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t take his sunglasses off either, just keeps his eyes on the road and his hands steady on the wheel. It pisses me off.

“You know, if you could just tell me what’s going on with him it’d be a hell of a lot easier to help him.” I bite out.

Nick rolls his eyes at that, I can see behind his stupid sunglasses from where I’m sitting. “Honestly Louis, I would have though you’d google him by now.”

“I’m not going to do that to him,” I shoot back even though the thought has yet to pass my mind. “I saw that flier you gave him, though.”

“He told me he got rid of it.”

I cringe a bit at that, but I don’t think he notices. “Yeah, well I still saw it.”

“And you haven’t asked him about it?” Nick muses, still not making eye contact with me. “Or even told him you were snooping through his things just to spy on him?”

“I’m not spying on him-”

“Oh, but you must be curious,” he sneers, finally pushing his sunglasses up to glare at me. “About those bruises, right? Or about why the hell no one even noticed he was missing until now?”

My mouth is gaping like a fish’s at this point and I can only stutter out; “I don’t-”

“Well why don’t you just fucking wheedle it of me then, Louis, huh? Seeing as how you care oh so much.”

There’s this strange swirling in my stomach and it almost makes me want to puke. Everything just seems so wrong and there’s a part of me agreeing with Nick Grimshaw and that’s bad enough on its own. “What the fuck do you want, Grimshaw?” I shout, unable to keep it in.

Nick shoots me a look and then slips his sunglasses back on, turning to look at the road. “Stop fucking with him,” he growls. “Don’t you dare make him believe you care and then drop the fuck out when what’s going on is too much for you to handle.”

“What is your problem?” I ask, leaning forward just a bit. “Can’t you just let him be happy? Or are you too busy trying to fuck him to care about what makes him happy?”

The car comes to a sudden halt that almost sends my head bouncing off the dashboard. I’m half-certain he’s about to drop me off to make me walk the rest of the way home, until I see we’re at my building. Nick is absolutely fuming and it’s obvious I must have hit a nerve.

“Get out of the car,” he hisses. “If you think for even a fucking second I’d try anything with Harry, you’re out of your goddamn mind. Get out of the car and don’t expect to ever hear from me again, got it?”

“Pity, I always look forward to listening to you bitch and moan.” With that, I grab my things and get out of the car, slamming the door shut. Nick speeds away before I can even make it to the sidewalk but I push all of that into the back of my mind. Sure, it needs to be addressed, but Harry’s upstairs right now and he needs me to be there. That takes precedence.

Zayn is crouched next to the couch when I open the door and Harry’s laying on it, still wrapped in our blanket and still whimpering with his lower lip puckered out.

“I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry-”

“Hey, s’alright Haz,” Zayn reassures him, scratching at the boy’s scalp like a asked. “I’m not angry at you okay? There’s nothing for anyone to be angry at you for.”

Harry says nothing, just continues to stare blankly and murmur about how he’s so sorry. He gets like this sometimes, eyes wide open but still somehow not fully awake. Zayn finally looks up and sighs in relief when he spots me still standing at the door.

“Harry, look. Lou is here, see?”

I drop my bag on the floor and after slipping out of my coat and shoes, go to the couch. Zayn rubs circles into my back as soon as I sit down in front of the blank-eyed boy. “Hey baby, it’s me.” I murmur, afraid anything above a whisper will scare him.

“L-Lou?” Harry stutters. His eyebrows furrow and it doesn’t even look like he can see him, his green eyes look clouded. I nod and brush his hair back which only makes him jolt and scoot back further from me “I don’t-I-I’m sorry-”

“I’ll leave you two alone alright?” Zayn gives me a quick and reassuring squeeze to the shoulder and leaves the room.

Harry’s shaking a bit now and he keeps closing his eyes and opening them in a sort of elongated blink. Swallowing back fear, I reach forward again to try to brush his hair away from his sweaty forehead.

My fingertips are just brushing a curl when he speaks again. “Hit me.”

I stop moving completely, my hand suspended mid-air. “What?” I whisper, sure that I’ve heard him wrong.

Harry turns so his face is pressed to the couch cushion and starts to shake harder, and that’s when I realize he’s crying. “Hit me,” he says again, this time louder. “I did it. I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault. Just get it over with, please get it over with. I deserve it.”

I don’t know what to do or what to say. He’s never been like this before, never this bad before. Sure he’d wake up and whisper things but never to this extent. Waking him back up completely has never taken this long before and now I’m scared of what might happen if I can’t.

“Harry…Harry no, sweetheart please you have to get up.” I beg him.

“It’s my fault, it’s all my fault. I deserve it-”

“Harry, look at me,” I demand and he does, snapping his head up so quickly that it makes me realize he’s taken it as an order. “It’s just me, alright? It’s Louis.” My voice is much softer and hopefully soothing and not demanding or scary like it was.

And it works because Harry’s eyes get a little clearer and he squints a bit. “My Louis?”

I smile and nod. “Yeah love, Your Louis. Can you see me?” It takes him a moment, but Harry eventually nods. My smile widens and I kiss his forehead in relief. “Good babe, that’s so good. No one’s going to hit you, okay?”

“I deserve it,” He whispers, his eyes flicking down to his shaking hands that are now resting somewhere near mine.

Frowning, I reach for them, clasping the two bigger hands into my own to stop them shaking. “Baby what are you talking about?”

“I deserve it,” He whispers.

“No you don’t, I promise you don’t.”

Harry shakes his head against the couch and finally looks back up to me. “Yes I do. You don’t know me.”

And it’s been so long since he’s said that to me I’m a bit startled. “Nothing you could have done would ever deserve-”

“You don’t know me.” Harry says again, this time much firmer, his eyebrows furrowing.

The entire conversation with Nick from earlier flashes through my mind and I close my eyes, trying to force his words out with my fingers against my forehead. Longer fingers soon join me, poking and prodding at my head until I open my eyes again. Harry’s smiling slightly.

“Hi there.”

A startled laugh escapes my mouth and I lean forward to kiss him. “Hi there, Harry.” I chuckle against his lips.

His large hands practically span the entire back of my head, like a puppy’s paws. “Your hands are giant,” I mutter. “Know what that means?”

“Nuuh.”

“Means you’re going to get even taller than you are now. Soon you won’t even be able to fit through the doorway.”

Harry laughs and lays back down on the couch, this time on his back. His eyes glance to the cable box, and then back to me. “You’re supposed to be in class.”

“Yeah, well, I heard you needed me,” I say with a shrug. “So here I am.”

“My hero.” Harry smirks at me and motions for me to come closer.

Mindful of his blanket, I pull myself up onto the couch next to him and tuck his neck into my shoulder. Harry pulls the blanket up around us and snuggles even closer to my side. I stare up at the ceiling for a little while while his fingers trace across my t-shirt. These moments are my favorite, just relaxing with Harry by ourselves, listening to the sound of him humming, knowing he’s happy and content with just being with me.

“The nightmares are always worse when you aren’t around.” Harry breaks the silence with a kiss to my collarbone that’s peeking out of the jumper which-as usual-belongs to him.

“I don’t want you to have them at all.” I say, stubbornly.

Harry sighs and attaches his mouth to my collarbone yet again, sucking gently but not hard enough to leave a mark just yet. “It’ll pass, Lou,” he whispers, his breath brushing across my skin. “It’s just…my sister died a year ago next week.”

“Oh god,” I gasp. “Harry-”

“It’s okay,” Harry puts a hand on my chest to stop me from sitting up. “It’s okay Louis, it really is, I promise.”

With some protest I finally do lay back down flat and let Harry’s lips continue their path across my collarbones. “I really wish you’d tell me these things. It absolutely kills me not knowing what’s happening with you or how to help.” There’s an obvious bitterness in my tone but I sincerely hope Harry doesn’t hear it.

“No one was there when Gemma died,” he blurts out. “I was so alone, Louis. I didn’t even go to the funeral because I-I couldn’t. I cried every night by myself without her and I spent everyday after without her, missing her so badly it almost hurt to breathe and now-you. You’re here Louis and you aren’t making me go through this alone and that’s help enough.”

There’s a lump in my throat and my eyes are stinging with tears, because I’ve never been that for anyone. I’ve never been so important to someone before, I’ve never had someone who needs me like Harry needs me. Sniffling back my tears, I roll to the side so I can pull harry close. Not close enough, never close enough, but still close.

“I’ll never leave you alone like that,” I promise him, kissing his forehead for emphasis. “Never again, Harry.”

It takes a moment but Harry soon surges forward into my hug and clutches at my shoulders, burying his head into my neck once more. “I know you won’t Lou. Thank you.”

We stay like that for who knows how long, Harry kissing along my neck and I pulling him tighter and tighter, wanting him to feel all the things I can’t bring myself to say. Zayn finally comes out of his room and chuckles when he sees the two of us, taking a seat at the end of the couch and flipping through the television channels. The two of us eventually sit up, me making Harry sit in my lap and let me rub his back. It always hurts when he lays on the couch but he never complains.

Sometimes I wonder what other things hurt Harry that he refuses to complain about.

The others come home and nobody mentions how I mysteriously disappeared and nobody mentions how I got a ride home with Nick so I thankfully don’t have to explain that to anyone. Niall and his big mouth, however, asks me about my application so I have to share Harry’s big smile and bright eyes with everyone else. Call me possessive, but I still love to keep those things just for myself.

Gemma is eating away at me though. While we’re all sitting around watching television and complaining about our professors and coursework, I cannot stop thinking about Harry’s sister. And by that I mean I want to know how she died and I want to know why it affected Harry this way.

I get my chance to investigate when I volunteer to order pizza. Harry stays in the living room, half laying across Niall and Liam while I head into the kitchen, clutching my phone tightly.

Googling Harry’s name brings up about a million results seeing as how it’s an incredibly popular name, but none of them seem to be about him. Frowning, I type Gemma Styles in instead. There are a few less results this time, and after some scrolling I finally come to an obituary. With a cursory glance out to the living room where Harry is trying to gain control of the remote, I click the link.

She was only twenty, it tells me, and she was beautiful just like Harry said if the picture is anything to go by. I read it through quickly, finding it mentions Harry but doesn’t give a name, and it mentions a father but still no name. Then, at the very very end with it’s own little indentation it reads;  _Miss Styles died unexpectedly of injuries sustained in a car accident._

My frown deepens. Harry never mentioned anything about a car accident. Then again he never actually talks about his sister unless I prompt him to, today being the exception. All I’ve learned from him so far is that Gemma stayed home with him instead of going off to uni and that she never had a boyfriend, even though boys would show up asking for her quite often. Harry always came first.

“Lou, what’re you doing?”

I yelp in surprise and my phone goes flying until a hand shoots out to grab it for me. Liam raises an eyebrow and looks down at the phone. I can actually see when it clicks in his mind and I snatch the phone away to close the page. Then, thinking better of it, I go back and clear my history.

Liam’s watching me strangely. I’m trying to come up with an excuse but it’s useless because the next thing I know he’s grabbing my forearm and tugging me out of the kitchen. The other boys all stare but not one of those assholes tries to save me as Liam practically drags me into his bedroom. So much for loyalty.

“Zayn, pay for the pizza.” Liam calls, and with that he slams the door shut.

“If you’re going to tell me I’m betraying his trust then you can stop,” I say, plopping down on his bed. “I’ve already heard it from Grimshaw today, I don’t need it from you.”

Liam’s eyebrows furrow and he sits down beside me on the bed, all sitcom dad-like. “What do you mean you heard it from Nick?”

“I um,” I bite my lip and then decide I’m done keeping that particular secret. “I sort of went through Harry’s jeans one night and found this missing child’s poster. And it was sorta of Harry. And I may have done it secretly and not told him and he might think I never saw it.”

Liam groans loudly, a groan that usually comes when I’ve done something stupid like broken his mother favorite lamp and blamed him. “Louis, honestly-”

“He doesn’t tell me shit, Liam,” I blurt. “How the hell else am I supposed to know if he won’t tell me?”

“You ask him,” Liam says, reaching over to pull me closer with an arm around my shoulders. “Lou, you guys need to talk to one another if you ever plan on staying together.”

I groan loudly and give him my best possible pout. “Li, don’t give me relationship advice, alright? You and Zayn are perfect and I’m just…I’m just not. Anything involved with me isn’t going to end well and this is exactly why.”

When there’s something Liam wants to say you can always tell. I’ve always teased him about being an open book but at the moment it looks like the words are actually about to crawl out of his mouth. He’s pressing his lips together and avoiding eye contact at all costs until it gets to be too much.

“We almost broke up a few weeks ago.”

And that is not what I was expecting at all. “You _what_?”

Liam nods and then shrugs. “Right before we left for Christmas break he and I had this huge fight, no one else was home and we never talked about it so it sort of festered until the train ride to my place. We almost didn’t make it to my place.”

“Seriously?” I gasp, racking my brain and trying to remember any sign of hostility from the pair of them. “What did you fight about?”

He looks down at his hands and then away from me, a blush spreading across his cheeks. I gasp even louder in realization. “Liam Payne.”

“Louis-”

“Liam Payne, tell me you did not almost break up with the love of your life because of a  _sex thing_!”

His blush is furiously red now and Liam buries his face in his hands to try to hide it. “Louis, I really don’t want to talk about this.”

“What kind of a sex thing was it?” I wonder aloud. “Did he want to have a threesome? With me? I bet it had something to do with me.”

“I thought he was bored,” Liam interrupts me quickly before I can continue on with that train of thought. “Bored with me, I mean. So I asked him and he said no, and then I told him not to lie to me and it turned into this whole big thing. He asked me if I thought he was lying and bored did I also think he was cheating, and then I was worried about why the hell he’d even bring that up, but it was nothing. We talked about it, and it was stupid and it was nothing.”

There’s laughter bubbling up but I can’t let it out, because Liam is serious. He’s always had a sort of self esteem issue when it comes to relationships and I’m actually surprised it’s taken this long for it to rear it’s ugly head yet again.

“Okay Li,” I say with a kiss to his forehead. “You aren’t allowed to breakup with Zayn, though. Already lost my real parents and I can’t lose you too.”

I meant it as a joke but it Liam makes this noise in his throat and is suddenly squeezing me into a tight hug. “You won’t ever lose me, got that? Because you are great Louis, you really are. And it’s going to work out with Harry because things can work out in your favor, and you’re going to talk to him like a good boyfriend. It’s not going to be perfect forever but if you don’t talk to him it’s never going to be alright.”

It scares the hell out of me, thinking about confronting Harry. Sure he may be quiet and snuggly, but he’s a manipulative little shit and the instant he blinks those big green doe eyes at me I drop the subject. But Liam’s right of course, I do need to talk to Harry before this somehow gets worse.

“Okay Li, I’ll do it I promise,” I sigh. “And you aren’t allowed to ever fight with Zayn again. Not allowed. Not on my watch.”

“You’re an idiot,” Liam laughs against my cheek. “C’mon let’s go get pizza before Niall eats it all.”

When we get out there, Harry’s waiting for me. He moves from laying on Zayn to lay on me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and making himself comfortable in my lap once again. Once he’s settled he frowns at me and kisses the light love bite on my neck.

“Are you alright?”

At first I just nod back, but then I kiss him back, moving to gently pull him in by his chin. “Are you alright?” I whisper, not letting him look away.

Harry’s eyes go strangely dark only for a split second, and then he’s smiling and kissing me again. “M’fine as long as I’m with you.”

Liam is watching me out of the corner of his eye for the rest of the night, but I chose to ignore him and focus instead on the boy I currently have in my arms who’s giggling at the telly and chewing on my pizza crust. I almost say something, almost, and then Harry looks up at me with wide eyes and says something about the movie that makes me laugh and I forget everything other than my lips against his. 


	19. Chapter 18

_“Hello Harry.”_

_I look up and check my surroundings. There’s my bed, my old bed from back home with the ratty looking comforter that’s tangled around my legs, but everything is dark around the edges. All I can really make out are cold, familiar eyes. Not someone to save me, someone coming to inflict even more pain. He frowns at how I whimper, trying to scramble away from what I know will just be even more pain._

_“P-Please, I can be good, I promise-” I’m pulled off the bed and the edges stay blurry, but I can feel a kick against my stomach. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”_

_He drops down in front of me, crouching to meet my eyes straight on this time. “We’re alone,” he whispers conspiratorially, like it’s a secret, like I don’t know. “Do you know why we’re alone?”_

_I swallow past my dry throat and nod, trying not to let any tears show. “I killed her.”_

_“That’s right,” my hair gets brushed back from my forehead and I catch his dramatic pout. “You did, huh? And now you have to be punished for it.”_

_I shake my head repeatedly, not caring that this forces the tears out that I’ve been trying to keep in. “It was an accident, please,” I cry. “Please, I’m sorry, don’t hurt me.”_

_“Oh, but I have to Harry. You understand, don’t you? That’s what fathers do, we discipline,” his voice is unwavering and unapologetic, even though he’s pulled yet another dull knife from the darkness and is pressing it to my shirt, right over where my scar is forming. “You need to be punished for what you did, Harry. You need to be punished for killing her.”_

I jolt awake, gasping for breath and reaching for my stomach frantically. Blood should be seeping through my fingers, there should be a stinging pain around where I’m pressing, but there’s nothing. Nothing. No pain, no blood, only my heavy breathing and Louis beside me sleeping.

Louis.

I let out a relieved sigh. Louis is still here, still safe beside me, and I’m safe beside him. Somehow, he’s not awake yet despite the fact that I am now. His eyelashes flutter a bit and he smiles in his sleep, so I grin right back. Nothing could make me happier than Louis’ smile.

There’s no point in trying to coax myself back to sleep, so I decide to slip out of bed and pad into the kitchen in my fluffy socks. Niall bought me them just for laughs, but I’ve found that they’re actually really comfortable. So comfortable in fact, that Niall bought another pair for himself and the other boys haven’t stopped laughing at us since. Mine are a pretty pink color I affectionately refer to as Princess Pink, and Niall’s are striped rainbow, but Zayn says we look like a two man pride parade when we wear them together.

It isn’t until I’m making myself tea and a bowl of cereal that I notice it. It’s 4:48 in the morning, my phone tells me, but more importantly it’s January 22nd and it has been exactly one year since Gemma died.

My breathing goes a bit shallow and I have to try to keep myself standing straight up so I can finish the tea. _I can do this,_ I tell myself. _I’ve gone a year without breaking down, I can make it through this day._

Surprisingly-or not so surprisingly, really-there is absolutely nothing on television at five in the morning. I flip through channels, cereal bowl perched in my lap, scowling at each show that comes past until a weight drops down beside me. It’s Niall and he’s watching me closely, but neither of us say a word and I carry on going through channels. I finally pick a children’s cartoon and return to eating my cereal, still quiet.

“Morning, Harry.”

I nod to him, waving my spoon a bit in hello. “Morning, Ni.”

Niall’s usually the first one up anyway, so I’m not really all that surprised to find him here. If I wake up from a nightmare, more often than not he’s already sitting in the living room waiting and after I wake Louis up, I join him. It’s too early today, though, and despite my promise I’m not waking Louis up. Maybe if I don’t, and maybe if I can control it, he’ll think the nightmares have stopped.

After sliding into the kitchen on his socks, Niall returns with his own tea and cereal, though much more than I have. He laughs at the cartoon every now and then, showing off the mushed up fruit loops in his mouth, but I don’t have the heart to be angry with him about it, not when he’s laughing at something so dumb. Niall could get pleasure from the simplest of things.

“What’re you doing up this early?” He asks, finally turning away from the cartoon. He knows the answer already, it’s obvious by the way he’s frowning at me, but I indulge anyway.

The second the word _nightmare_ comes out of my mouth, Niall’s face falls. I’m expecting him to scoot up closer to me and throw an arm around my shoulder, and I am not at all disappointed. His breath smells like sugar and artificial flavoring from this close, I notice.

“You know Lou’s so worried about you, right?” Niall asks, and I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes because of course I know. “You should talk to him. He stays up sometimes at night to watch you, just to make sure you’re okay. I’ve caught him doing it before.”

 _Well, that’s news._ The last few fruit loops are scooped into my mouth around a frown. L _ouis shouldn’t be staying up for me,_ I think. _He needs to sleep. He needs to focus on more important things like uni, or getting his job this summer. I shouldn’t be so high on his list of priorities._

“He’s asleep now, though,” I decide. “He won’t even have to know I had a nightmare. Because you aren’t telling him.”

When meeting my serious gaze, Niall makes a noise I can only assume means he doesn’t approve. He doesn’t fight me on it though, and instead changes the subject to more normal things. We cycle through topics like his midterms coming up in the next month or so, and how I’m trying to find a job somewhere that’ll make it possible for me to help pay rent. Somewhere in the midst of all this, Louis emerges from our room with the same adorable pout he wakes up with every morning he has class.

“Well, if it isn’t the fuzzy sock brigade.” He mutters when he spots Niall and I.

On cue, I throw my feet up on the coffee table and wiggle my toes around in them a bit. “I like them.” I whine.

Louis walks the rest of the way over and smiles sleepily. “You look cute in them.” He winks and gives me a soft kiss for consolation.

Niall gasps loudly. “What about me?” he cries in mock anger. “Don’t I look cute in mine too?”

Louis rolls his eyes but does shift to give the boy a kiss on the forehead. “You look adorable too, Nialler.” He assures him, ignoring the way Niall starts off on a screaming rant about personal boundaries.

We leave him to continue ranting and make our way to the bathroom to brush our teeth together like every morning. The domesticity of it almost makes my heart ache. If Louis notices something is wrong he doesn’t seem to notice, that is until I reach for the toothpaste and send it flying with my shaking hands.

“Haz, babe-”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I say too quickly. “Just clumsy. Sorry.”

Louis’ eyebrows are furrowed in concern, but he grabs the toothpaste for me and says nothing else. I somehow manage to make it through brushing my teeth without any major catastrophe, despite the fact that Louis is still watching me like he expects me to break down at any moment.

It’s not until I’m one foot in a pair of jeans that he mentions anything. “So, why were you up with Niall this morning?”

The question stutters my movements and I almost end up pantless again, but I catch myself. “We were both just up a bit early and decided to waste time. Didn’t wanna wake you up, it was too early.

Louis hums a bit and stays silent again until I’m fully dressed. He comes up behind me just as I’m putting my shirt on and wraps his arms around my waist, standing on tiptoe to rest his chin on my shoulder. “You know you don’t have to lie about the nightmares,” Louis whispers, his breath tickling my neck. “I want to know that you’re okay and you obviously aren’t, so what good does lying do?”

I frown and shrug a bit, careful not to knock his head away because it feels good even if his chin is a bit pointy. “I just don’t want to worry you if it’s nothing.”

“Is it nothing though?” Louis challenges.

Groaning, I spin around and capture his lips in mine. Louis makes a startled noise but doesn’t protest when I start to back him up until he’s thrown back against the door. Smiling, I nip his bottom lip between my teeth, eliciting the quietest of moans from the older boy. “It’s nothing,” I whisper into his mouth. “Promise.”

This is my only tactic, really. Whenever Louis gets too nosy, I just scoot a little closer, blink up at him, and kiss him like its spur of the moment and just happened to coincide with his questioning. The only other thing I can really do is cry, and Louis hates when I cry, so I focus more on crowding him into corners and snogging until he forgets what we were talking about.

And as usual, it works. Louis keeps at my side but he doesn’t stop smiling and he doesn’t ask about the nightmare again. It lasts long enough for him to see me off to work with Zayn with no other incident.

Nick is there as soon as I open the door, of course. It hits me only as he’s hugging me that he knows what today is. Nick was more towards Gemma’s age, he knew more of her friends, he’s probably always known it was today. One of his larger hands comes up to my hair and he cards through it softly.

“I’m so sorry, babe,” he whispers. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” I promise him, but the hug feels nice so I stay there for a little bit longer.

Zayn clears his throat, standing a few steps from us and looking obviously confused. “Why wouldn’t he be okay?”

I shake my head and pull away. “It’s nothing.” As much as I like and trust the other boys, Louis is still the only one I’ve actually told about my sisters. I’m sure he’s probably told them by now, but no one needs to know what today is.

Zayn looks over the two of us suspiciously, before shrugging and going to set up in the booth. Nick stays for a bit, worrying over me. He’s completely ruined any sense of order my hair had with his hands and he’s speaking in this dumb attempt at a whisper, like anything louder than that might scare me off. I push him away and groan.

“Grimmy, I’m fine. Honestly.”

Nick frowns a bit, but finally and thankfully nods. “Fine. Have you talked to Louis yet?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

Nick’s dark eyes go a bit wide, before he schools his face into a frown. He leaves me alone with some excuse about helping Zayn out and getting back to the broadcast. I take my seat at the computer and phone and wait for something to happen.

There are only a few phone calls by lunch, a surprisingly majority of them being actual business and not just questions about Zayn or requests for the same song by the same dumb boyband that seems like it’s been playing nonstop for hours. Apparently, Nick has been asking amateur acts to send their music in and neglected to tell me I’d have to find a way to deal with that.

I have a thumb drive full mostly of awful dubstep by the time Perrie and Danielle show up for work early. It was sitting in one of the drawers on the desk and I’m guessing it’s Nick’s because there was only one folder labeled _STAY OUT_ and it was full of porn. The girls and I share a quick laugh about that and then descend into the hours of dubstep.

“I don’t understand it,” Perrie mutters, shaking her hair. “Why did they have to mix in voices from _Toy Story_?”

Danielle and I burst into laughter. “There’s one in here that sounds like it was actually made on those little kiddie keyboards.” I say, searching through the folder to try and find it.

Zayn and Nick come out of the booth looking tired and ready for lunch which reminds me I probably need to do what I’m paid to do. “I’ll head out then-”

“Hey, no Styles,” Nick stops me just as I’m about to go pick up lunch for everyone. “Everyone else can order something, you and I need to talk. We can get lunch together, I’m paying yeah?”

It seems I don’t have much choice in the matter because he’s already grabbing my coat for me and waiting at the door. Bidding everyone including a confused Zayn goodbye, I reluctantly follow Nick out into the cold weather. He wraps an arm around my shoulders the instant I get my coat on, obviously knowing how much I need it right now.

“Thanks.” I mutter, stepping closer to his side.

I stay under his arm the entire way to a small sandwich shop just off campus. We each get something to eat and some tea to warm us up and Nick leads me to the small and deserted sitting area in the very back of the restaurant. He waits until I’m about halfway through the sandwich I ordered to finally start talking.

“H, you know that…that whatever we had, it was dumb. And we were kids, it was in the past, and I don’t still feel that way. You know that, right?”

I raise my eyebrows. “Wow Grimmy, way to break it to me gentle.”

Nick rolls his eyes and kicks me under the table. “Shutup, I’m trying to be serious!”

“Yes,” I laugh, kicking him back. “I know you’re no longer in love with me. Is that what this very serious talk is about?”

“No, I just,” he breaks off with a sigh and starts to pick the lettuce off his sandwich. “I don’t want you getting the wrong idea. Because it’s not that I’m trying to break the two of you up or something, but I need to tell you something about Louis.”

I stop moving, my sandwich staying halfway towards my face until I put it back down slowly. “About Louis?” My throat feels dry and I start wracking my brain, trying to think of something Louis could have done that would warrant a talk. I come up blank, but my heart is still beating erratically in my ears.

“So you remember the flier I gave you, right?”

My heart sinks, I can feel it sitting in the bottom of my belly and making me feel almost sick. “Nick-”

“Babe, just listen,” he whispers, reaching across the table to grab my hand. “He told me he found it. While you were sleeping, he found it and he saw all of it and I don’t know why he hasn’t said anything to you, but I feel like you need to know that he knows.”

For a moment I forget to breathe. Nick is still squeezing my hand, just to try to be reassuring, but nothing can calm me down at this point because he saw it. Louis saw it.

 _What else does he know?_ My mind races, my heart beats even faster. _What else has he found out that he’s not telling me?_

“Harry, breathe,” Nick leans closer across the table, eyes full of worry for me. “C’mon, it’s not that bad-”

“Yes it is,” I gasp, wrenching my hand from his to bring it to my stomach just to feel that I’m still breathing, that I’m still alive. “Nick, it’s not okay. He saw and-how much does he know? Please, you have to tell me how much-oh god. I can’t do this, I can’t _do this_.”

“I didn’t say a word,” he swears. “As far as I know, he’s only seen the picture and that’s it.”

Everything is going too fast, spinning too fast, and when it finally stops who know how much later, there’s a spark of anger. Anger directed toward Louis, which is something I could never dream of happening before now. Louis has crossed a line, a major line, and he didn’t even mention it to me.

“I need to talk to him.”

Nick’s all sympathetic eyes and comforting nodding which isn’t helping anything. “I know pet, but-”

“No, now,” I push myself out of the chair and grab my coat and phone. “I need to talk to him right now and make sure that’s all he knows.”

_This could all be ruined. All of it could be ruined._

“Maybe you should just tell him,” My attention snaps back to Nick and I narrow my eyes at him. He holds his hand up in surrender but doesn’t shutup. “He loves you, Harry. Anyone with eyes can see that, and sure I don’t really like him, but I think out of anyone he deserves to know. You aren’t even telling me everything Harry, but that’s still more than you’ve told Louis.”

“It’s too much, he’s going to leave,” I mutter, mostly to myself. “I couldn’t ask him to handle something like that. He would leave.”

“You don’t know that.”

My coat finally corporates and I get it on all the way. I don’t look up from where I’m zipping it when I say, “I do know that. Everyone leaves eventually, Grimmy, especially the ones who promise not to.”

It’s snowing just a bit when I walk out of the sandwich shop, leaving Nick behind. I shoot Louis a text telling him we need to talk later. He won’t be out of class until about an hour after I leave, so there’s no point in me going home and letting the anger get to me. Instead, I head back to the studio and try to distract myself until Louis texts me back.

And he does, about a half hour later and sounding very confused. _Talk about what sweetheart? I’ll try to get out a bit early no promises though xx_

I make a face at the text because it isn’t fair. It isn’t fair that I’m supposed to be angry at him, and yet he’s being so sweet to me. For some reason, it just pisses me off even more. I spend the rest of the day stewing in my anger until it’s time to lock up and go home, finally.

Louis is the only one missing from our group, and the rest of the group notices how I angry I am. Zayn is the first one to speak up, which I expected seeing as how he saw the whole conversation with Nick earlier.

“Are you okay?” he asks, slinging an arm around my shoulders while we wait for the train to arrive. “What was it you and Nick talked about?”

“I have to talk to Louis,” I say, simply. “Nick told me something that we need to talk about.”

Liam perks up at this, frowning thoughtfully. “Are you and Louis fighting?”

Zayn rolls his eyes at his boyfriend and pulls me a bit closer. He gives me a warm, understanding smile and nods. “The rest of us will go out for dinner, yeah? So you can both talk, without the nosy ones.”

I have to bite back a smile because I’m not supposed to be happy about any of this. “Thanks, Z.”

Liam is still eying me though. “Do you want me to stay?” I shake my head and he shrugs. “Louis gets sort of dirty when he fights, and really loud. I know you don’t like yelling, I should probably moderate or something.”

A laugh I did not plan on at all bubbles out. “No, it’s okay. I can handle it I promise.”

I have to practically push the three of them out of the flat and off to dinner later on. Since coming home and changing clothes, I’ve gone through four Liam Speeches and Niall has to be pried off of me. I haven’t said much, but I think they can tell that this isn’t going to be pretty.

The door handle jiggles a bit only minutes after they leave and I take a deep breath. I’m horrible at confrontation, and for good reason, so I’m not entirely sure how this kind of thing works. At least when I’m sober.

Louis smiles when he sees me and drops his things at the door. He walks over and tilts my chin up with one finger for a kiss, which I give him because I can’t help but feel like it might be the last one for a while. “Gorgeous as always, Haz.” Louis teases, tugging a bit on the jumper I’m wearing.

“Don’t really feel it.”

“Well, you should because you are,” Louis smiles and sits down beside me on the couch. “So, this talk we’re having-”

And I can’t stand how kind he’s being so I spit it out. “Louis, why didn’t you tell me you found that flier Nick gave me?”

Louis’ face falls. He backs up a bit on the couch and opens his mouth and closes it a few times. “Harry, I-”

“Like, what made you think that I would be okay with that?” I wonder aloud. “With you going through my things and not even mentioning it to me?”

Louis sets his jaw and scowls at me. “I’m sorry Harry, okay? It was wrong of me but I stupidly thought you’d explain it. I stupidly thought that maybe you would trust me and you’d tell me what the fuck you were doing with bruises all over your face and why no one even noticed you were gone!”

“I don’t need to tell you everything, Louis!” I snap, standing up from the couch just to have some sort of advantage over him. “I’m allowed to keep things to myself if I feel like it.”

“But you should at least tell me _something_ ,” Louis shoots back, standing up himself and yelling just as loud. “You never tell me anything, Harry. If I want to know anything I have to pry it out of you.”

I ignore that, ignore the fact that he’s basically repeating what Nick’s already said, I ignore the fact that he’s mostly right. “What else do you know?” I ask, my voice coming out in a strange growl.

Louis looks hesitant at first, which tells me he does know something else. It seems almost like he’s going to say nothing, when I finally raise my eyebrows at him and he snaps. “I know how Gemma died. I know about the car accident, I know you’re from Holmes Chapel, I know it was just you and your father left after that.”

Hearing him say it makes it all the more real. I can feel myself being pulled back to it, back to my cold bedroom where I cried for weeks, back to my angry father, back to everyone mourning Gemma except for me because she couldn’t be gone. She just couldn’t.

You can feel the tension in the room hanging between us, and it’s all too much. Louis’ giving me this look like he’s expecting an answer I can’t give him. All the guilt that’s been weighing on me for the past year is crashing down and taking me right with it. Everything is too much.

With a short sob, I push past Louis and run to our bedroom, slamming the door shut behind me. There’s a crash that makes me yelp and as soon as I see its Niall’s clock, fallen to the floor and cracked down the front, I start to cry.

 _It’s too much,_ I crawl up on the bed and curl into a ball. _It’s too much, too much, too much._

The door creaks open slowly and I can hear Louis’ quick intake of breath. Apparently everything I’ve said is forgotten because he’s soon crouching down beside me and reaching for my hands.

“Baby, oh god I’m so sorry,” he whispers, eyes wide with fear. “I shouldn’t have yelled, I should have told you, I-”

“Stop,” I shake my head. “My fault, Lou. M’sorry.”

Louis makes a face that tells me he disagrees. I grasp his hands harder and he helps me sit up, and eventually stand up, hugging me close. He lets me stay there, just until my breathing becomes regular again and my heart slows enough to where I can hear him again.

“Harry, please,” Louis pleads, rubbing my back in small, slow circles. “Tell me what’s happening. I’m begging you Harry, I just want to help. Please let me help you, if you tell me what’s wrong I can help you get through this.”

I pull out of his arms to face Louis dead on. My lip is wobbling and I know I look like an absolute idiot, but I don’t care. I need to get it out, I have to tell someone all of it before I explode. I have to tell Louis.

“I killed her.”

Louis frowns, obviously not getting it. “Harry-”

“I killed Gemma,” I say, louder and clearer so he’ll know. “I killed the only reason I even had to keep living. I killed the last person on earth who could ever love me, is that what you want to hear? I fucking killed her!”

This is the part where Louis is supposed to leave. He’s supposed to be appalled, he’s supposed to storm away in anger and maybe just leave the flat entirely, but he doesn’t. Instead, he steps forward and places a hand on my shoulder. I jerk away, shaking my head because he doesn’t _get it_.

“Don’t,” I hiss, and then with a sudden burst of anger I pull my shirt up to point at my scar. “You see this?”

Louis closes his eyes for a bit, breathing out slowly. He nods when he opens them again and I continue on.

“My father did this. He did it because I deserved it, because this is what killed Gemma. Straight across her stomach, cut so deep her insides were out and I remember every fucking second of it. I remember that she died and I didn’t, and that is my fault. It should have been me.”

Louis keeps opening and closing his mouth like he has no idea what to say, and really, neither do I. I’ve already started this though and it’s too late to go back. I have to keep going, I have to spill out everything so Louis knows exactly why I’m pushing him away. He needs to know that he can’t afford to love someone like me.

“Harry, baby, I don’t know what you think happened but I know Gemma died in a car accident-”

“That I caused! I was driving the car, Louis. We were supposed to be going just to get dinner and I kept insisting on driving. I told her a million times, ‘it’ll be alright Gemma, I need the practice’ and ‘please, Gems, please I promise I’ll be careful-” I have to stop at this point because I can see everything all over again. I can see Gemma’s face so vividly, the way she had smiled that fond, proud smile and handed me the keys.

“We hit ice and we-I swerved and there was a ditch. The car rolled over four times, Gemma went through the windshield out into the snow, and I killed her. And then me, I lived. For no fucking reason, I lived and my father couldn’t stand it and I understood because he was right. I shouldn’t have lived, Gemma should have, and if I had been paying attention she wouldn’t be dead!”

There’s something under me when my knees buckle and I fall, and I hardly recognize it’s the bed before I’ve brought my knees to my chest again and started sobbing, trying desperately to get the images out of my head. Gemma’s smile right before we crashed, the way she laughed at how I was jokingly singing along to the radio. I can hear the tires screeching and her screaming, a sound that will never leave my memory because I’d heard it so, so many times before. Worst of all were her eyes; the way she looked at me just before I blacked out and just as the windshield cracked and she flew forward. She loved me. Even then, even when I was killing her, my sister still loved me.

_All my fault, it’s all my fault. My stupid, stupid fault._

Louis drops down beside me and grabs me. He wraps his arms tightly around my chest, positioning us on the bed so he’s holding me. “It was not your fault, Harry,” Louis keeps whispering in my ear. “Please don’t say that, baby please believe me. You have to believe me.

_My fault my fault my fault_

I don’t know how long we lay there while I cry and Louis whispers into my neck and cries along with me, but by the time I come back out of it the sun is just beginning to rise. Louis is asleep beside me, one arm still tightly around my chest, eyes puffy and red from crying. He looks horrible, he looks stressed out and sad, and I did that. I ruined Louis too, just like I ruined Gemma.

Being as quiet as possible, I slip out from under Louis’ arm and quickly replace myself with a pillow that he grabs and crushes to his chest. After a quick look around I find that Niall is still sound asleep as well as Liam and Zayn. Trying not to trip and fall over any of the books or scripts on the ground- _I’ll miss that_ , I think, sadly-I make my way back over to Louis’ nightstand and rummage around until I find a piece of paper and a pen.

Words escape me. I have no idea what to say, no idea how to tell them all how much they mean to me, how they changed my life and cared for me when no one else did. Sniffling back tears, I scrawl down to simple words and tuck the paper under Louis’ family frame. Next, I reach back and unclasp the paper airplane necklace and set it down with the note just as carefully so the chain doesn’t tangle.

My old backpack is in Louis and Niall’s closet exactly how I left it. All of my things are there, the photos with my sister and mother, the ripped hoodie, my baby blanket that I promised my mother I’d keep safe. The jumper I wore when I first came here is there too, along with the light spring jacket and I slip both on. Trying to find my old jeans would be pointless, I’m almost positive Liam threw them out after he declared them a biohazard, but I find a pair I know for a fact that I bought with my own money and put those on instead.

“Haz?”

I whip around only to see Niall, eyes still closed and frowning in his sleep. My movement probably stirred him. “Just going to the bathroom, Ni,” I lie easily, though my heart is beating a mile a minute. “Go back to sleep.”

There’s a moment where I’m almost sure he’ll wake up, but he doesn’t. Niall makes a noise and rolls over onto his stomach, snoring. I smile past the tears in my eyes at the thought of leaving him. Niall found me first and if it weren’t for him, god only knows if I’d have even made it through that night. And then Louis, who says he loves me, Liam and Zayn who look after me with smiles and comforting when I need it. I’m going to miss all of them so much.

For the briefest of moments, I consider giving up on this stupid idea and just laying back down with Louis. I could tear the note up, hide all my things again, wake up in a few hours and make everyone breakfast. I could watch a stupid movie with the boys maybe, we could stay up all night playing FIFA, we could go clubbing with Nick and watch the cute jealousy grow on Louis’ face. We could just be with each other, around one another, making me feel like I’m home and making me feel like I really do have a family again.

I snap back to reality rather quickly and remember that none of that is possible now. Louis knows, and he’ll be waking up in a few hours so angry with me, he’ll think I’m insane and I need to get out before that happens.

So with one final, longing look around the flat, I let the front door click shut quietly behind me for the last time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooorry
> 
> tumblr: amoryfics


	20. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going to come back through and edit this a bit later but I wanted to get it out before I left today ahhh. I’m sorry again, enjoy :)
> 
> tumblr: amoryfics

Our bed feels strangely cold the next morning. Zayn must have left a window open again I guess, something he’s notorious for doing even in the dead of winter unfortunately. Instinctively, I reach for Harry beside me. He’s always so much colder than I am, he should be snuggled up to me like usual by now, but he isn’t. I reach out again, further this time, but only reach cold empty sheets.

“Harry, sweetheart come on.” I groan.

 

There’s no answer; no shuffling of blankets, no snuffling noises, no warm boy rolling into my arms. I blink my eyes open slowly and yawn. Early morning light is spilling in the room and landing on the empty spot beside me where Harry should be. I frown a bit and sit all the way up, looking for Niall’s clock to check the time only to find its no longer on the wall. It’s only then when the night before comes rushing back to me and I practically shoot up out of bed.

 

Harry and I need to talk. Now.

 

He’s nowhere to be found though which presents a problem. After a quick check in the living room I comb through the rest of the house, checking the kitchen, the bathroom, and finally as a last ditch effort, Zayn and Liam’s room. I can’t hear anything above my own heart beating in my ears erratically and the words of Harry last night. Something is wrong here, something is so, so wrong and I can hardly catch my breath when I walk over to the front door. Harry’s gone. His coat and one of his scarves are hanging up, but he is missing.

 

If I hadn’t already been crying, now would be the point I’d start. “Zayn. Niall?” I yell, trying to calm myself down so it doesn’t sound so much like screeching. When there’s no answer, I get even louder and more frightened “Liam! _Liam_ _!_ ”

 

There’s some nondescript scrambling noises, before Niall comes sliding in. His hairs all a mess and he looks rumpled from sleep, but he still croaks out a worried sounding; “Lou, what happened?”

 

“Please tell me you know where he is,” I plead, wiping my tears away furiously. “Niall, please just tell me Harry told you he was going somewhere I-”

 

Liam is out next, cutting me off with just his expression when he catches sight of me. Something in his eyes go from sleepy foggy, to dark and almost angered almost instantly, and he strides across the room to let me collapse against his chest.

 

“Zayn, get dressed,” he says, his soft tone not at all matching the tight grip he has on me now or his dark eyes. “Niall, you stay here with Louis and try to calm him down a bit.”

 

“No, I have to go-”

 

“No, you stay here,” Liam backs up a bit to look me in the eye, seeming much less angry now. “Babe, just listen to me. I’m going to try and find him for you, okay? But you need to be here in case he comes back, and you need to call Nick too. Can you do that for me?”

 

I nod a few times, looking off towards the door distantly. “Nick. I’ll call Nick, he’ll know-he knows-”

 

“Okay Lou, okay,” Liam cuts me off with a small smile. “Everything’s going to be fine, I promise.”

 

And of course he doesn’t know that for sure. Liam has no way of knowing whether or not we’ll find Harry, or whether or not Harry will even make it through the night, or even whether or not I’ll ever be able to get over this. But the fact that he’d promise me something like that is so very Liam of him that I just nod back and accept another hug.

 

Zayn and Liam get dressed and out the door in record time, each passing me with a quick squeeze to the shoulder. I watch them go, watch the door swing shut behind them, and then remember what they forgot.

 

“Zayn!” I call, pulling the door back open just in time to see his back retreating down the hall. “Zayn, wait his coat. Harry needs his coat.”

 

I promised Harry I’d never let him be cold again, that I’d always take care of him even now. Especially now. The thought of him wandering around in those old ratty clothes with nothing to keep him warm and no way of contacting someone if he needs help kills me.

 

Grabbing Harry’s coat off the door, I run down the hall and the rest of the way to Zayn. The brown eyed boy looks from the coat in my hand, to my face, and pulls me close for a bone crushing hug. “I’ll take it,” he promises. “We’ll bring him back, I promise I’ll make him wear the damn thing.”

 

I nod and watch as he catches back up with Liam, before returning to back to the flat. Niall shuts the door for me and slings an arm around my shoulders. He assumes his role as the comforting puppy dog-like friend and lets me cuddle closer into his side.

 

“C’mon, you have to call Grimmy. If Harry went anywhere, it’d be to him.”

 

I catch the thickness of his voice and my eyes widen when I notice he’s crying. “Oh, Ni,” I whisper, reaching to pull him even closer. “Niall, c’mere.”

 

Niall spins around so fast he almost knocks me over. “Lou, what’re we gonna do without him?” he blubbers, holding my t-shirt in his fists so tightly I’m sure he’s going to rip holes. “What if he never comes back?”

 

I shake my head. “No, he has to come back-”

 

“Louis, he’s my best friend.”

 

Like the idiot that I am, it only hits me now that Harry leaving doesn’t just affect me. What Harry has me and what he has with everyone else is different, but just as important. I’m not the only one who’s going to miss him. I’m not the only one who needs him to come back home.

 

“C’mon Nialer, it’s gonna be fine. Here, come to our room with me and get my phone.”

 

Niall nods and moves just enough so I’ll be able to walk with him back to our room. I find my phone right next to Harry’s like always on our bedside table, but when I go to reach for it I notice something else. There’s a note written in Harry’s loopy scrawl with his paper airplane necklace laying across it.

 

_I’m sorry._

 

“He doesn’t even say goodbye,” I choke out, trying to find some will to be angry. “Just that he’s sorry, it’s so-it’s so Harry.”

 

Niall takes the note from my hands and walks off to his bed to do god knows what with it. Sniffling, I lift Harry’s necklace up and clip it around my neck, letting the charm rest against my skin. He’ll want it back when we find him. After I tell him that Gemma’s death wasn’t his fault, and when I tell him I’ve never wanted to hurt someone as badly as I wanted to hurt his father last night for how he hurt my boy. My Harry.

 

He’ll have to understand, I know he will.

 

I sit down on my bed and Niall drops down beside me, holding the note in his hand still. Seeing my contact name for Nick gets a bit of a laugh out of him but I still wrap an arm around his shoulders just to be sure.

 

It takes two or three tries before Nick finally answers his phone with an angry huff. “What?”

 

“Please tell me Harry’s there,” I whimper, past the point of caring whether or not Nick Grimshaw thinks I’m an idiot. “Nick, I know okay? I know you hate me but this one time, please you have to help me just this one time. Harry has to be there with you.”

 

“Harry?” Nick sounds much more awake now. “What is it about Harry, did something happen?”

 

“He’s gone,” I cry, now knowing he isn’t there. “I woke up this morning and he was just gone, he didn’t wake me up, he left his coat, all I have is this fucking note saying he’s sorry and his necklace-please, he has to be there. Maybe he’s on the couch, just check Grimmy please.”

 

Nick swears and I can hear him scrambling around on the other side of the phone. Theres some silence and any hope I had is squashed when he starts swearing. “Shit, Louis, _shit_. Fuck. I’m coming over, we need to talk. Why aren’t you out looking for him?”

 

“Zayn and Liam are.” I spit back at his accusing tone.

 

“Good, I’m coming over right now. Fucking hell, Tomlinson.” And with that, he hangs up.

 

Niall and I end up wandering into the living room where we sit on the couch and stare off into space, neither of us speaking. There isn’t much to say, really. From Liam’s text messages I’ve learned they’ve seen no sign of Harry yet and its only getting colder out. It’s snowing now, and I watch the heavy flakes fall outside the window mournfully.

 

The entire fight from last night plays itself over in my head. I was such a fucking idiot about the whole thing. I should’ve just told Harry that I wanted to see the flier, I should have just listened like he needed me too without getting defensive or yelling at him. Most of all I should have stayed awake; I should have stayed awake and held him all night so he wouldn’t have time to think about what I might think of him now and would know I still love him just as much as I always have. I should have fought off all his monsters just like I promised.

 

A knock at the door jerks me back to the present. Niall calls out for whoever it is to come in and I’m about to scold him for it when Nick enters. He takes one look at us and groans.

 

“He’s really gone, then?”

 

“No, we just called you crying to fuck with you.” I snap. Niall reaches over and squeezes my hand, shooting me a warning look. Now is not the time for petty fighting, I know that, but the look on Grimshaw’s face pisses me off.

 

Nick walks the rest of the way over and scowls at me. “What’d you do?”

 

“I didn’t do anything!” I shout, almost pushing him off the couch when he takes a seat beside me.

 

“Well I’m sure Harry didn’t just run off for no reason.”

 

Niall squeezes my hand once again and takes over. “He and Lou had a fight last night, I think,” he says, his eyebrows furrowing a bit. “The rest of us were gone and when we came back, Harry was asleep, Louis was crying, and there was broken glass on our floor.”

 

Nick perks up at this and his dark eyes snap to mine, arms freezing midway through taking off his coat. “Did you hurt him? I swear to god Louis, if you fucking-”

 

“No!” I stop him, my voice going up an octave just at the thought. “No, I would never, ever hurt Harry! I know you hate me but you at least have to know that. We didn’t really even fight it was just…Harry told me some things about Gemma. The glass was from your clock Ni, it broke when the door slammed.”

 

The three of us fall silent. Niall periodically squeezes my hand while Nick sizes me up, a slight curl to his lip as he apparently determines whether or not I’m worth speaking too any further. And apparently I am, because he’s the first to break the silence.

 

“What did Harry tell you about Gems?”

 

I wince a bit and then sigh. “He told me about how she died, he was in the car with her,” I look up to gauge his reaction and see he looks just as surprised as I was to find that out. “Harry told me that and then he said….did you know? Nick, did you know he thinks he killed her?”

 

“He said what?”

 

Niall lets go of my hand and stands up, coughing a bit to remind the two of us he’s still here. “I’ll go out and look some too, yeah? Give you two some time to talk.”

 

I nod, thanking him with my eyes. “Call me if you see him?”

 

“’Course,” Niall smacks a kiss onto my cheek like I usually do with him, and walks to the door to grab his coat. “Later Grimmy.” With that and a wave, he’s out the door and leaving me here alone with the enemy.

 

Grimshaw’s huge eyebrows are still pulled together in the middle and he looks as though he’s trying to figure something out. “I don’t understand, what was it he said about Gemma’s death?”

 

Admittedly, I’m a bit surprised he doesn’t know any of this yet. In a sick way a part of me is happy that I finally know something about Harry he doesn’t, but I can’t dwell on that for long. After a deep breath to steady myself, I explain almost everything Harry told me last night-right down to how his father left that horrible scar and why.

 

“Fucking asshole,” Nick growls once I finish the story with teary eyes. “Is that all he said? Harry?”

 

I nod, discreetly wiping at my eyes. “Yeah.”

 

When I look back over, Nick is hunched over his legs, his elbows digging into his knees and his hands running through his hair. “Louis, I really didn’t want to have to be the one to tell you this but at this point there’s…there’s sort of no other option.”

 

“Tell me,” I whisper without really thinking it over. “Please, Nick if it has anything to do with this you have to tell me.”

 

Nick takes a moment to stare down at his feet, before sighing with a large slump of his shoulders. “After Gemma died that’s not-that isn’t when it first started. Harry’s father, I mean, he didn’t just all of a sudden start hurting him it started after Harry and Gemma’s mum died. Their father just lost it, on Harry mostly. Always on Harry and Gemma was the only thing stopping him from just…killing the poor kid. My mum always said it was because Anne got really sick after she had Harry. She just wasn’t supposed to have another kid after Gems and it made her sick and wore away at her for years until she died. Their father was drunk constantly, he lost his job so Gemma quit school and worked two to support them, even Harry had one for awhile. Everything Harry ever did was to make her proud.”

 

A strange coldness rises in my chest and I feel almost as though it’s going to choke me. “You _knew_ ,” I accuse, my voice jumping up an octave. “You knew the whole time and you never did anything? You never told anyone!”

 

“I was a kid, Louis!” Nick snaps back, obviously not in the mood to fight with me right now. “You don’t understand what type of town we lived in-everyone knew about it. Everyone knew what Harry’s father was doing, but no one ever did anything because it wasn’t their business. There was nothing I could do, no one I could tell who would do anything about it.”

 

I hate to accept that as an excuse, but what choice do I have? Nick’s right-god I wish he wasn’t, but he is-I have no clue what kind of situation he and Harry were in. Maybe there really wasn’t anyone who would listen. It doesn’t make me any less angry, of course.

 

“So those bruises then, in the picture?”

 

Nick nods and sighs, staring off into space. “Don’t think that I don’t blame myself for this Louis. I do. I should have done something but I got too caught up in that _there’s nothing we can do_ mentality everyone else had. But Harry told me that he had stopped, right before I left he promised me his father had stopped hurting him and Gemma and I believed it. He’s a good liar Louis, you know that.”

 

“Yeah, he is.” I mutter, trying not to think back to Harry’s first day here, trying not to think of the irony of it all.

 

“It wasn’t just that though,” Nick is quick to add. “The bruises had stopped coming up, Gemma seemed happier whenever I saw her and so was Harry, I just assumed their dad had realized what he was doing was wrong or something. But that isn’t what happened, that’s not even close to what happened and I only just found out that Harry had lied to me. Their father was still just as bad, worse even, but he was hiding the bruises better, he was getting smarter. Gemma and Harry were only happy because they found the money their mother left.”

 

I have to stop him there though because that makes absolutely no sense. “If there was money, why would Gemma still be working? Why didn’t they just get out of there?”

 

“Because it’s Harry’s money, Louis,” Grimshaw says in that condescending tone of his, as if I’m an idiot for not understanding this Lifetime movie story he’s weaving. “From what I’ve managed to get out of Harry, all of it is his money. Originally it was split into two separate funds so Gemma would have one too, but Gemma and Anne weren’t stupid. They knew that their father was a bit of a drunk and honestly, I think they saw it coming. If Gemma had gotten her money she could have left but Harry would have had to stay with their father and Gemma would never do that, but if she stayed her father would steal the money. If Harry got all the money when he was eighteen they could both leave and split it so that’s what Anne did, but she never told a soul. Gemma assumed their father had taken all of it somehow to drink away, which is partially why she worked so much, but he didn’t know about it either until the bank called. It’s still there Louis, all of it. It’s Harry’s money and when he’s eighteen it’s all his.”

 

Both of us go quiet while I let that sink in. Harry turns eighteen in only a matter of weeks, he’ll have a good amount of money in only a matter of weeks but he’s run off now and there’s no telling if he’ll even live to see any of it.

 

“And after Gemma died, it got worse-”

 

“Their father wants that money,” Nick whispers, with a small frown. “And I think that he beat Harry down to make him believe that not only had he killed his mother but now his sister. He made Harry believe he was worth nothing and he himself thought that by doing this, Harry would stay. Harry would get his money by the time he turned eighteen and his father would take it all.”

 

I shake my head. “But he left, Harry left. He’s stronger than that.”

 

Nick sighs again and presses the heels of his hands to his eyes. “Louis, his father broke him. Harry thinks he deserved what was done to him, he thinks he’s killed his sister and now he thinks you hate him. So, where do you think he’s headed right now?”

 

“No,” I snap, immediately. “No, don’t even fucking say that.”

 

“You need to be realistic-”

 

“And you need to get out.” I stand up, ignoring the fact that my hands are shaking, and walk to the door. Nick watches on in disbelief as I pull it open. He stays sat on the couch until I clear my throat and raise my eyebrows.

 

Grumpily, Nick grabs his coat and slips it on. “I’m going to call Zayn and help the rest of them look. They need to know this Louis, we have to start checking train stations-”

 

“Fuck off,” I growl. “Get the hell out of my flat.”

 

Nick walks the rest of the way over, pausing just as I’m about to slam the door on him. Our eyes meet and he smiles softly at whatever he thinks he sees in mine. “Louis, he’s so easy to fall in love with, but he doesn’t fall in love easily. You have to deserve and work to get a person like Harry to fall in love the way he has with you, and I know you know that. I know you realize how lucky you are and that you’ll do the right thing.”

 

I slam the door extra hard behind him and fall back against it. The heels of his boots clack down the hall and I wait until I can no longer hear them before sliding down the door and finally letting everything out that I’ve been holding since this morning.

 

Harry is gone. He left, I promised to always protect him and now I have no way of doing so. If Grimshaw is to be believed, he’s going to home to seek punishment from his father for something he didn’t actually do.

 

I want to scream, so I do. I want to kick my feet and throw a tantrum like I’m six years old again, so I do. And I keep crying and screaming and kicking my feet around and doing nothing productive, until it finally hits me how absolutely fucking stupid I’m being.

 

Yes Harry is gone, yes he left, but if there was ever a time when he needed me to protect him it would be now. I can’t just sit here and do nothing while he’s out there.

 

I get dressed at record speed, not even stopping to brush my teeth or fix my hair because those are things I usually do with Harry. I do slip on one of his jumpers though, I can only be so strong. It smells so much of him that I almost cry but I suck it up because there isn’t time.

 

Outside the snow is still falling and it’s biting cold. A strong gust of wind hits as soon as I start down the walk and I’m sure my nose is already pink by the end of the block. I try very, very hard not to think of how cold Harry must be right now.

 

First, I check the park Harry told me he used to sleep at. The spot where we made the snow angels is empty of any people,probably because they’re in their homes and warm. Leave it to Harry to pick the coldest day of the month to disappear. There’s no sign of him in any other part of the park either, I check all the benches and even get close to one or two bundled up homeless men before realizing Harry isn’t here.

 

Next is the alley where I first found Harry. Niall had told me awhile ago that that’s near where he saw Harry for the first time and Harry had told me he usually picked allies to sleep in at night. He isn’t there either, of course, so I keep going on.

 

I must go for blocks and blocks by the time the sun sets, looking into each and every alley way and park I come across, even shouting Harry’s name at times. There’s nothing, no sign of him, not even when I resort to pulling out my phone and asking people if they’ve seen him. No one has, but I feel like I see a flash of curly hair or the sparkle of green eyes every time I turn around.

 

It’s January so it’s still far too early to be this dark but I’ve given up. Nick was right, Harry’s gone back to his father most likely. God knows what’ll happen when he gets there.

 

There’s a part of me that screams _no_ when I spot the pub nearest to me and enter it. I shouldn’t be doing this, I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but I’m well past the point of caring.

 

The bartender doesn’t know me here so he doesn’t protest when I order a few shots just for myself and tell him to keep them coming. And the thing is, I know this is wrong. I’ve promised Harry over and over again I’d stop drinking and yet here I am even after that long speech from Nick about Harry’s father. Who cares now that Harry’s gone? Who cares how much I drink or if I even come home tonight at all? No one’s going to be there waiting for me so what the hell’s the point.

 

“What’s the point?” I ask the bartender.

 

He’s an older looking man with a beard and everything. I’d quite like to grow a beard I think, a great big fuzzy one. He raises an eyebrow and shrugs at me. “Dunno kid, been wonderin’ that myself.”

 

“That’s not helpful.” I sigh, dragging an empty shot glass around in circles with my finger.

 

“This probably is, though yeah?” Bearded Man, which is his name now I’ve decided only seconds ago, takes the empty shot glass from me. He takes the rest of the empty ones too and softly nudges a glass of water towards me. I make a face at it but still drink the water anyway, making an appreciative noise when a pint is set down in front of me next.

 

“It’s never as bad as it seems, I think.” He says.

 

I shrug and pull the frosted glass towards me just someone should try to take it. “Yeah, sometimes it is though. Thanks.”

 

Bearded Man leaves me alone long enough for my fuzzy brain to turn even fuzzier. I start calling Harry’s phone continuously just to hear him fumble through setting up his voicemail. It’s so cute, his _umm_ -ing and his awkward laugh at the very end. Half of me holds out hope that he’ll answer even though I know for a fact that his phone is home where he isn’t.

 

“Louis?” I frown at the phone. That’s definitely not part of the voicemail message. “Louis.”

 

The voice comes from directly behind me this time so I spin around to see what has to be a dream, because it’s Harry. Harry is standing in front of me right now in this seedy bar, frowning in disappointment, with his arms wrapped tightly around his chest to keep the cold out.

 

“Harry!” I jump off the stool and stumble forward, trapping him in my arms even when he tries to take a step back. “Harry, Hazza you’re-you’re okay.”

 

Harry grabs me around the waist quickly as my knees buckle a bit and pulls me close to his shivering body. “Lou. Louis, are you fucking drunk?”

 

I nod a bit, too far gone to feel badly about it. “What are you doing here,” I move to rest my lips against his neck, seeking out his pulse just to make sure he’s real and I’m not just dreaming. “Thought I’d lost you. Thought you were gone forever, Nick said. He said you were gonna go get hurt.”

 

“I was following you,” Harry murmurs. “Lost track and found you here, go figure. C’mon, I’ll get you a car just let me pay the tab.”

 

Harry moves around a bit, slipping his wallet out of his back pocket and paying my tab to Bearded Man. “Money and no coat, you absolute twat.” I mutter against his skin.

 

He shifts me around a bit to put his wallet back in his pocket and runs a hand over my back. “What was that?”

 

“I said, money and no coat,” I yell this time, so Harry will hear me. “I’ve been worrying about your fucking coat for hours you fucking _asshole_!” With a sudden burst of anger I push off of him and scowl. “I’ve been _looking_ for you and _worrying_ about you, and you have no fucking coat, and I promised I wouldn’t ever let you be cold and hungry again, and I hate you.”

 

Feeling satisfied with my argument, I cross my arms and continue my scowl. It’s a very good scowl, all lowered eyebrows and things. I’m quite a good scowler. Thats about when my own words hit me and I deflate a bit.

 

Sighing, I reach for Harry again and tuck myself into his side. “I don’t hate you at all.”

 

Harry says nothing, just squeezes my shoulders a bit and steers me away from the bar. It’s even colder outside now and I crush myself up against the younger boy, hoping my body heat is enough to warm him. Groaning, I turn my head and bury it into his side.

 

“I lost you.” I mumble, practically eating the jacket he has on.

 

“M’not lost Lou, I’m fine. I promise.”

 

I whine a bit and pinch him gently on the arm. “No you aren’t, you aren’t home with me. You aren’t fine. Shivery and cold.”

 

A car pulls up slowly and Harry pulls the door open, urging me inside first. I slide across the seat with a small giggle and settle against the other side. After spouting off our address, Harry curls himself around me and the taxi starts moving again.

 

“You’re coming home with me.” I giggle, because I’m a fucking _detective_. All I had to do was get a little drunk to find Harry Styles and I did it. Feeling quite satisfied with myself, I close my eyes and relax a bit. I deserve it.

 

A hand settles in my hair and lips find my temple and they’re both so familiar I don’t even have to reopen my eyes to see who it is. Also there’s only Harry in the car with me, but that’s besides the point. I know him so well by now I can tell him by only his hands and lips.

 

“Lou, you’re drunk,” Harry whispers, almost straight in my ear. “But when you sober up, you’ll know why I left and why I’m still leaving. You’ll remember then.”

 

At this, my eyes snap back open. Because, no. This is not what’s supposed to be happening, Harry’s supposed to be coming back home with me right now to get warm and to eat. He isn’t supposed to be leaving all over again and letting me wake up to a cold bed just like this morning. Or yesterday. What time is it?

 

“I remember now,” I declare. “And it wasn’t your fault. None of it, none of it was your fault. I love you so much, I do I do. No one’s ever gonna hurt you again. Never gonna let him hurt you again.”

 

The hand that’s be softly scratching at my scalp moves to brush through my hair a few times, pushing it away from my face so our eyes can meet. “Sweetheart, look at me. I’m okay, it’s okay.”

 

“Stop saying that,” I cry, reaching forward to trace Harry’s lips. “Stop acting like it’s okay he did that to you. I’m gonna kill him, y’know? So angry. Gonna find him and kill him.” A spark of anger starts in my chest. I start to sit up to do god knows what, but Harry stops me.

 

He sighs, one hand against my chest to gently set me back down. Instead, I slide over even more and rest my head against his heart. “Baby-” Harry starts, but I stop him.

 

“No! He doesn’t get to-to treat you that way. My sweetest boy.” I moan at the images flashing behind my eyes. Harry, scared and alone after his sister died. Harry blaming himself for everything bad that ever happened to his family. Harry, being beat and broken and _my_ Harry hurt. With no one to help him.

 

I’m supposed to protect him. I’m supposed to chase all his monsters away and make sure he sleeps safely at night.

 

Harry sighs sadly and moves to rub my back in small circles. I reach for the paper airplane around my neck and hold it tightly, the edges of it biting into my skin slightly. We stay silent for the rest of the ride while I slowly drift off to sleep, my head pressed to his collarbone and his arms keeping me upright. I can trust Harry.

 

It’s so fragile, is the thing. It was always, always so fragile between the two of us even when we were only friends. And now we’ve told each other everything, we’ve spent hours laying awake at night just whispering to one another, there are no more secrets, but it’s still just as fragile. Harry still left just as easily as he could have weeks ago when I first dragged him home with me.

 

I should be angry, but I’m not. I can’t blame Harry for running away, I can only try and make him understand how much I love him and how much the boys love him. We need him and Harry needs to understand that.

 

“Lou, baby,” Harry’s raspy voice whispers to me. “C’mon we’re here sweetheart.”

 

I sit up a little bit, just enough to see our flat in front of us. “Please come with me, please Hazza.”

 

His eyes are glassy, I manage to register that. There are tear streaks down his cheeks that I wipe at with my sleeves because Harry should never cry. Never ever. “Come here.” Harry doesn’t wait for me to move, just tugs me forward. Our lips crash together and I moan low in my throat, trying to get closer.

 

“I love you Louis, so much,” he breathes. “I do, okay? Always. I’m going to miss you so badly. Tell the others not to worry, not to look for me. Can you do that baby?”

 

I shake my head immediately and grab for his shirt, not planning to let go anytime soon. “Come back, please,” I beg him. “You can’t go there, you can’t get hurt again. Please come home, Harry.”

 

Harry’s voice sounds thick with tears when he speaks again. “Go on inside now love, it’ll be alright. I promise.” Gently, Harry takes me by the hand and opens the door for me. He exits the car with me and walks just enough to leave me at the door where he kisses me again.

 

“I love you.”

 

I tilt my head up, frowning at the silhouette of Harry in front of me. “Am I dreaming?”

 

Harry smiles sadly, his teeth nibbling a bit at his lower lip before he finally nods. “Yeah, you’re dreaming Lou. Go back to bed for me.”

 

“Be there when I wake up, then.” I challenge.

 

There’s a sigh. Harry’s thumb finds its way to my lips and he traces over them softly, moving to my cheeks next to wipe tears away, and then my nose. It’s almost as though he’s memorizing me.

 

Finally, his thumb comes to rest on my bottom lip. That sad smile is still stuck on when he sighs, “Goodnight Louis.”

 

And with that, Harry leaves me at the door and slowly walks back to the taxi and gets in. The car doesn’t move until I open the door and go inside, at which point it speeds off down the street and leaves only empty space behind. Maybe it is a dream, then. It has to be.

 

“Louis?” I look away from the door to see Liam standing in the hall, frowning behind me at the still slightly opened door. “Lou, I’ve been calling and texting for hours. Who was that in the car?

 

I turn back just to confirm he’s gone, and let the door slam shut. “Harry,” I say with a shaky intake of breath. “He was saving me.”

 

“Saving you-Lou, what happened? Get over here, it’s freezing.”

 

Liam tucks me under his arm and walks me through the hall towards our flat. “Oh, babe,” he sighs, and I know he’s smelled the alcohol on my breath.

 

“I found him,” I mumble, closing my eyes briefly. “Harry. I found him.”

 

“Where?”

 

I sigh, leaning my head on Liam’s shoulder and rolling it back and forth a bit. “In a pub. He came, he took me to a taxi-like whe he was here that first day, ‘member Li? When I ran away and he showed up to save me? And he just did it again, except he’s the one who run away from me this time.” I cut off with a frown at this realization. Harry’s really gone now.

 

Liam, however, doesn’t take this as an answer. “Hey, listen okay? I know you’re tired and you’re well…you know, but. Did Harry say anything that would give us a hint about where he’s going? Nick mentioned maybe he’d go back to Cheshire?”

 

Just because Liam asked it of me, I mentally reply the whole conversation in my head again. Or what I remember of it, mostly. “He said not to look for him,” I remember. “Not to worry. Said he loves me.”

 

That’s all I can really get out so Liam just nods and unlocks the flat door. “Come on, let’s get you to bed. You can tell us all of it in the morning.”

 

“Have to keep looking,” I whisper as Liam navigates our way through the darkened flat to my room. “Haz said not to but I’m not-we can’t give up on him. He needs to know. We love him, he needs to know that-”

 

Liam sets me down carefully on my own bed after only knocking over one pile of books. There’s a lump in my bed and after an experimental poke, it turns out to be Niall. The blond haired boy pokes his head out and frowns tiredly at me. “Figured you might want a cuddle. I could use it too.” He explains while Liam and I change my horrible smelling clothes.

 

I want to tell them both how much I love them. I want to wake Zayn up too and tell him, just so he knows. Then I could call the girls and tell them too because everyone needs to know how much I love them before it’s too late like it is with Harry now.

 

“Go to sleep, Lou,” Liam hushes me. “You can tell us everything in the morning.”

 

I reach for his hands though and start to shake my head. “Liam, I love you okay? I do, I do my best friend. You’re my best friend. I’m so lu-lucky to have you and the boys, Li-”

 

“Shh, I know. It’s okay,” Liam presses a kiss to my forehead and helps me to sit down beside Niall again. “We love you too, even if you are an insufferable twat sometimes, you’re my insufferable twat.”

 

Niall’s arms find my waist and I sink down into the sheets, my eyes falling closed as soon as I hit the pillow. “Does Zayn know you have an insufferable twat.” I manage to mumble out just as my thoughts turn incoherent.

 

There’s a loud cackling from behind me and it takes me a moment to recognize it as Niall’s and not as Harry with a voice change and from some other part of my dream. This has to be a dream. One big, long nightmare and soon I’ll wake up with Harry in my arms.

 

“Goodnight guys.” Liam whispers, shuffling out of the room carefully.

 

“G’night Liam,” I murmur. “And goodnight Nialler.”

 

As soon as I’m sure everyone is completely asleep, I let myself cry.


	21. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve officially passed 100,000 words so. Yaaay. Thank you guys for reading, enjoy :)
> 
> p.s. I know you all hate me so I thought I'd just let you know all your comments fuel my evil laughter I love you guys
> 
> tumblr: amoryfics

In retrospect, hanging around just to follow Louis was probably a bad decision. I had to practically run and hide each time one of the boys or Nick came in or out the door. Liam was the worst, I could hear him and Zayn bickering as they passed by me unknowingly.

“I’ll murder him,” he whispered. “Once we’ve got him safe and all that, I’m going to kill him for this.”

Zayn had smiled this sad sort of smile and nodded. “Alright babe. C’mon, he can’t have gone far.”

Liam hates me, I’m sure of it. I could see it in his eyes. I shouldn’t have stuck around as long as I did. Following Louis around was for sure a bad decision, but taking him back home was worse.

_What the hell was I thinking?_

“Where to now?” The taxi driver asks, almost impatiently. He’s eying me in the mirror as if I might try and make a break for it or something.

“Kings Cross.” I reply with a short nod.

The car starts again and we pull away from the curb. I lean my head against the window and sigh, watching the flat with Louis inside of it disappear behind me for the last time. As the ride goes on I mentally add the numbers up. By the time I make it back to Holmes Chapel I will have gone through almost all of the money I have left, but there’s no point in worrying over it. One thought continues to run through my mind over and over again.  _This is all your fault. You killed Gemma and now Louis hates you for it. They all hate you for it. You’re never coming back._

The train I buy my ticket for won’t be leaving until very early in the morning. After taking a look around, I find a mostly secluded bench inside where I can sit and wait. It’s only then that I realize I have nothing to do so I start to dig around inside my bag, desperately hoping there’s something entertaining there.

I brought some food along, because even if I was stupid enough to leave a warm and comfortable house I’m not completely stupid. A package of crisps brushes across my fingers and I decide to open them first.When I reach in my bag once again I find a familiar paper package.

Something seizes up in my throat and I swallow a sob.  _No crying in public, don’t make anyone suspicious._ I remind myself. Glancing around to make sure no one’s too close, I pull out the covered package of pictures and smile.

The first in the pile, as always, is the photo of Gemma and I at my eighth birthday party. It’s one of the few pictures here that actually have her in it. The little camera belonged to Gemma and she took pictures of everything and anything back before our mother died. I found all the rolls of film in her room right before I ran away and spent what little money I had left after buying my train ticket to develop them.

My eighth birthday is vivid in my memory. Mum was getting worse, most of her time was spent in a hospital bed rather than out of it, but she and Gemma always tried so hard to make me happy. That day had been one of her good days she even had enough strength to bake me a cake. When I blew out the candles I wished for her to live just a little while longer if she could, but unlike Louis my wishes very rarely come true.

Only hours after that picture was taken my father came back home. He always tended to leave early in the mornings and come back very late at night, usually stumbling through the doorway and cursing. Gemma and I would always stay in her bed on bad nights because her room was the only one with a lock, and my birthday was always a particularly bad night.

Mum would herd us in there-weak as she was-and would look Gemma fiercely in the eyes before saying, “You stay here. No matter what happens you lock that door Gemma, and you stay here and protect Harry.” And we would lay in bed and listen to Mum and yell and Dad yell back while Gemma sang softly into my ear.

“He’s what’s killing you, the little bastard,” Dad would slur, always so blindingly furious. “Fucking  _mistake_.”

It never mattered how many times I heard that, I’d always freeze up because it was true. Mum was sick, I knew that she had been ever since I was born. I knew it was because of me, Dad told me so at every given opportunity. Even though it was true, Gemma would shake her head and squeeze her arms around me.

“Don’t you ever listen to him, Harry,” she’d say in between her soft singing. “Mum and I love you so much, you aren’t a mistake. We wouldn’t trade you for the world.”

It was always the same things she’d whisper. Always,  _We love you so much_ , or  _Just try not to listen_ , but more often than not  _I’ll protect you. I’ll always protect you_.

Even after Mum died, we’d still sometimes hide in there together. Gemma would whisper the same things over and over to me trying to make me believe them. I knew she really did try to protect me though. She always stood up to our father when he hurt me or yelled at me. Sometimes he’d hit her back, but mostly he wouldn’t, mostly he only hurt me because I was the problem and Gemma just got in the way.

Louis was never an angry drunk like my father was-or is. He would never hurt me, I always sort of knew that, but it was still scary for me. Watching him drink and watching him lose control of himself was terrifying at times. But he stopped because I asked him and because he finally saw reason until last night. I can’t be mad at him for last night though, as much as I’d like to be I can’t. Finding out your boyfriend killed his sister and then ran away leaving everything behind for you to deal with is a lot to handle.

 _I wish he hadn’t, though,_  I think with a small sigh.  _I wish I was at least there to comfort him in the morning._

Sometimes my father would stay home for dinner, pretending to be some normal father that he wasn’t and glaring at me the entire time. It was always hard to eat like that, so sometimes I just wouldn’t. Sometimes I just picked at my plate and waited for the inevitable, “You know what I don’t like about you?” to come out of his mouth.

“Des-” Mum would always start, and he’d always interrupt with his eyes still trained on me.

“You’re selfish, Harry,” he’d spit. “Your mother gave up everything for you, and how do you repay us? Fuckin’ off with that little twat Grimshaw everyday. I don’t understand why you even come home. Why do you ever come home?”

Under the table Gemma would hook her ankle around mine from her seat. She’d give me a look telling me very clearly not to listen to him, and I would just try to discreetly nod back. When Dad was done berating me the subject would change back to something more normal and we’d pretend nothing ever happened. It did happen though, and his words ate away at me every single time. Sometimes I would lay awake at night rethinking each and every word my father threw at me and believing it.

Coughing a bit to cover my choked up tears, I look around to check the time. I’ve only wasted a few hours sitting here feeling sorry for myself. The person who used to be sitting on the bench across from me has been replaced numerous times and right now it’s an older looking man, probably homeless as well. He has that cold, weathered look around his eyes from too many nights spent out in the elements. I used to wonder if I’d look like that in a few years time if I kept going the way I was. I used to wonder if I’d even  _live_ to see another few years.

And then Niall found me, then Louis and I almost forgot what it felt like to be cold.

I flip through some more of the pictures. There are about a million of me making goofy faces or giggling at my sister. A small, quiet laugh escapes me when I find one that’s perfect blackmail material. It’s Nick and I at the playground with my mom sitting somewhere off in the background watching the three of us. Nick’s hair looks absolutely ridiculous as always and he has one arm wrapped around my shoulders, making me seem tiny by comparison.

Nick was always there to help, before and after mum died. Ever since he first came up to me at recess one day,older than me and so much cooler, despite his long gangly limbs and giant crazy smile,he stuck by my side. Mum used to send me to his house for playdates if she knew my father would be home all day and his mum never minded. After she died, Gemma would either leave me there or at the local playground if she had to work.

Grimmy-as he insisted everyone call him from day one because Nick was a common name and he hated it-never seemed to mind having me follow him around. All of his friends were obligated to be nice to me and he always introduced me as his boyfriend, even though I had no clue what he meant.

“You’re my boyfriend because I like you, Harry,” he’d say with the same mischievous grin he has now. “I like that you have curls around your ears and you do whatever I tell you to do.” I’d always just nod back and agree.

Gemma said a boyfriend or a girlfriend or a girlfriend was someone who you loved very, very much, someone that in time you’d do almost anything for. She said when I met someone like that it would feel as though my heart would beat out of my chest whenever they were near, she said it would almost hurt if I didn’t tell them just how much I needed them in my life. When I asked if she had a boyfriend, she had laughed and ruffled my curls a bit.

“’Course not, Haz. I’ve only got the time to love you.”

She was right, though. I love Louis and I feel every single thing she said I would feel and more. For a moment my chest burns with longing; longing to go back home, sneak into bed with Louis for a cuddle and forget this all ever happened. Louis is beautiful, sweet, and I love him with every part of me.

_He hates me. He knows now and he hates me._

I let myself fall half-asleep but not completely despite how much I want to rest. By the time I finally board the train I’ve drifted in and out of sleep and reached the point of almost painfully drowsy. There aren’t that many people around so I get a seat to myself and end up leaning against the window and staring off outside. The ride is almost identical to the one I took just under a year ago now, except I’m leaving the city behind.

It was snowy when I left, the last bit of winter finally melting away in March but still somehow holding on. I can remember how the snow mixed with the slush and leaked through into my trainers and how I thought it so uncomfortable to walk around with wet feet like that. I had absolutely no clue what I was in for.

For some naive reason, I was under the impression I’d find a place to sleep within at least a few days, maybe even soon after that I’d find a job. Searching for Nick came to mind a few times but I felt like running to him would make me the same weak kid he used to have to protect from the bullies at school. Besides, he had left Holmes Chapel for a reason and maybe I was one of them.

Instead of going to school that day I waited until my father left for the pub and finally picked up my last paycheck from the bakery, even though I hadn’t been in to work since Gemma died. I had my sisters money as well, whatever was left of it, and used that to get to the station and buy my ticket to London. I didn’t have very much money after that because I was an idiot and spent most of it on food that I ate instantly. Besides, I had figured I wouldn’t be living in back alley ways for long.

No one had even really noticed I had gone. Nick told me that his mother had only just now found that I was gone because one of my older teachers had noticed I wasn’t even sporadically showing up to class. I had always had a tendency to skip classes, mostly to stay home with Gemma and try to help her through the pain we were both it, but after she died I stopped going completely. I could hardly get out of bed some days unless I was dragged from it, let alone face all the pity filled stares I knew I’d be getting. When my father was asked about where I was he admitted I was gone and I’m now, officially, a missing person.

 _You ruined Louis, now you can’t go back,_  I can hear my father’s voice through the fog of my half asleep brain.  _You see that, Harry? You ruined him like you ruin everything else. You know what I have to do now, don’t you._

Taking a deep breath, I shake my head a bit and snap my eyes back open.  _No sleeping, then._

My mind wanders on the journey, stretching from what everyone back home is doing right now to what my father is going to say or do to me when I show up at his door. It won’t be anything I don’t deserve, I know that, because this is what I get for killing Gemma. This is what I deserve for ruining my relationship with Louis and breaking his heart, for making my friends worry over me, for making Liam lose any trust he had in me to take care of his best friend. I deserve to be hurt for that, I deserve to die.

I spend the rest of the ride wide awake, watching the sun rise well into the sky only to be covered by clouds all over again, eating some of the fruit bars from my bad, and ignoring the loud singing of someone else a few seats back from me. When we finally arrive I manage to find just enough cash to convince a taxi to drive me from the station to Holmes Chapel. They give me a wary once over, lingering a bit too long on my holy jumper and distressed bag, but doesn’t say no.

My heart drops when I start recognizing familiar houses and fields that tell me I’m getting closer to home. We’re supposed to be going straight to my house but I almost shout for the driver to stop when we pass the cemetery. Making a split decision, I pay him there and get out.

The last time I was here was for my mums funeral almost ten years ago. Gemma and I were with her when she died, I remember. It wasn’t anything dramatic, no sudden screaming or choking or final words. Mum had simply smiled at me and fallen asleep. A few minutes later her heart rate monitor sounded an alarm and my sister and I just knew. She had spent the last eight years fighting and she just couldn’t anymore. Our father was at the pub when it happened, he was at the pub when all of our family showed up dressed all in black while Gems and I sat near the casket.

I can remember it all, the weeks leading up to it where relatives I never even knew existed showed up to the house to clean and help out. Some aunt neither of us really ever spoke to had planned the funeral, funny enough she was also the one to plan Gemma’s years later. My suit was itchy around the collar and I hated it, I didn’t want to wear a suit. I didn’t want to go to a funeral, I just wanted my mum. There were flowers all around the house that turned to just ripped up and stomped on petals by the time Dad returned home each night, which I didn’t mind much as they made me sneeze. There were also tons of weird aluminum foil covered containers in the freezer and the fridge which I really never understood. Casseroles wouldn’t bring my mum back, so why send them?

Gemma never stopped crying. That was the worst part.

Mum’s grave was under a tree, I remember. Gemma picked there because she told me in the spring the tree would be beautiful. It wasn’t spring though, it was the tail-end of fall and the tree looked bare and ugly, drab like the rest of the cemetery.  _Mum never would have liked it here,_ I had thought, almost angrily as Gemma had led me between the graves with my hand clutched in hers.

Later that night we both were in her room with the door locked, her dresser pushed up against it just in case, and she was still crying. “I’m going to protect you,” she had whispered to me, that night and most nights that followed. “It’ll be bad Harry, I know it will, but I’ll always protect you. We’ll get out of here before you know it, we’ll go so far away Hazza I’ll take you so far away. I’m not going to leave you here alone, okay? You trust me?”

“I trust you.” I whispered back, and we’d fallen asleep to the sounds of our father crashing drunkenly around the house.

There’s snow on the ground now instead of rain and leaves, but the cemetery is exactly as I remember it. I walk carefully between the plots until I spot the tree and then  _Styles_ etched in large letters over one of the headstones. It’s my mum and just seeing it brings back memories so quickly I lose my breath. Gemma is the next plot over, something I’m so, so grateful for. I don’t like the thought of either of them being alone in this cold place.

For a moment I can only stand there and stare, tracing their names with my eyes and trying to remember what I’m doing here. I look back to double check that I’m alone, and crouch down between the two headstones.  _I don’t know what to say,_ I realize.  _What was the point of this?_

“I, um-” My voice is far too loud for the tranquil cemetery and I stop speaking almost as soon as I break the silence. A bird sitting above me on one of the barre branches lets out a lone squawk, probably angry that I’ve woken it up. I glance back down at the ground, before clearing my throat and starting all over again in a whisper.

“I just thought that it wasn’t fair I never visited either of you. And that I left you here, which is dumb I know because you…you aren’t really here but. I should’ve at least gone to your funeral Gems, I just couldn’t and I’ll never stop being sorry for that. Irony, Zayn’d call it. That’s what it would have been if the person who killed you cried at your funeral.”

I take a deep inhale of the frigid air and slip my jacket off so I can lay it on the snow and sit down without getting as wet. “I came home, though,” I mumble as I situate myself. “I never deserved what Louis gave me, Gems. Louis-that’s my boyfriend, or he was I’m not so sure now. Anyway, I was never worth all the love he gave me, I didn’t deserve that flat and those friends and all those nights we had together. I should suffer like you had to, like Mum had to.”

There’s no telling really how long I spend there with my back to Gemma’s headstone and my feet resting near Mums. I tell Gemma everything, I talk for hours and hours about what it was like when she left. I tell her all about the nights I contemplated joining her and Mum here permanently, prying open one of the orange bottles from the bathroom and just letting go. I tell her about running away, I tell her about months like this and months in the summer that I spent falling asleep, hidden with my back to brick walls. I tell her about the way people looked at me with disgust and the way some felt it okay to grab me and hurt me just for fun.

I talk about Louis and the boys until my throat grows hoarse from either the cold or my tears, I can’t be sure. My breath puffs out from between my lips like cigarette while I laugh through my story of Louis getting so jealous at a club he looked murderous. I tell them all about Niall and how he can bring me from miserable to hysterical giggling with just one line and maybe a hug. Liam and Zayn and how they complete one another like two halves of a whole are mentioned too, whispered conspiratorially as though saying any of it louder may lead me to jinx myself. I tell her mostly about Louis though.

The sleepy smile he has in the mornings when I wake him up to bacon and soft kisses pressed to his face. Louis and the way he scares me when he looks so drunk and spaced out, lost. Louis, with tears in his eyes over things he never deserved to have happen to him. I tell her about Louis’ fond, proud smile he gets whenever he shows me pictures of the girls Lottie has sent him.

Louis when he laughs and his eyes crinkle. Louis pressing a hand to my hip at night, in public, while we’re asleep, just so I know he hasn’t left me. Louis and the way I catch him looking at me sometimes as though he and I are the entire world. Louis and how he cried only the night before, begging me to tell him this was all a dream.

Louis. My Louis. The sometimes angry little boy, sometimes responsible heavily burdened man I’ve fallen in love with. And I have fallen in love with him, I’ve fallen so deeply in love with him and that realization makes it hurt to breathe. He’s mine. My beautiful blue eyed boy who holds me through nightmares and has never once let me stay afraid.

“I’m here,” he always whispers while his arms wrap around me tightly. “Harry, just listen to my voice baby. I’m right here. Just you and I, okay? Its just you and I, no one is ever going to hurt you. I’ll protect you.”

“I don’t need to be protected,” I choke out and I’m no longer sure if I’m still speaking to Gemma or if I want Louis to hear me somehow. “I shouldn’t be protected, I should be hurt for hurting you both. I broke his fucking heart this time, I know I have. He’ll never want me again.”

The cemetery is eerily quiet once I’ve stopped speaking. The bird is long gone, the sun has reached the middle of the sky, and the snow has soaked through my coat completely. I can’t put it off any longer, sooner or later someone is going to put two and two together and realize where I am.

My coat is absolutely useless now but I wring it out anyway when I finally stand up again. I stand there for a few seconds longer, staring down at my feet beneath which two of the only people who ever love me lay.

“I’ll be back,” I promise. And as I walk away I try not to think of how if I do come back, it could very likely be in a wooden box.

The walk from my mother and Gemma’s graves isn’t nearly as long as I need it to be. Before I’m really ready, I’ve reached a startlingly familiar street. Memories flash through my mind with every step; bike races up and down the sidewalk with Gemma while our Mum refereed, sprinting from Nick’s house to mine at dusk when everything seemed much scarier than normal, building snowmen in our small garden with Gemma while our dad was out, neither of us caring when we could no longer feel the tips of our noses or toes. I want to focus on the good memories right now, that’s what I need most.

My house is nothing if not completely ordinary. Just a small little brick thing with not a hint of life coming from it, looking identical to every other house on our small block. Mum’s flowers that used to decorate the front of the house are long dead and gone. Gemma used to try and tend to them but between work and taking care of me, they sort of just wilted and died.

I think only momentarily about knocking before I notice the door is cracked slightly open so there’s really no point. My father’s shiny new car he had bought with the insurance money from when I totaled our car and driven around sober for about a week is nowhere in sight, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t sold it or worse. With a deep breath, I shout “Hello?” and wait.

Nothing.

 _So, either passed out, gone, or dead,_ I think while I push the door open all the way and cautiously enter the foyer.  _I don’t know which would be better._

Empty bottles are everywhere, scattered across the floors and sitting precariously on empty shelves and even the staircase. There’s a smell too, one I can’t exactly place until I walk further inside and see the half-eaten take away boxes left all around the empty living room. My father isn’t here, then. I wasn’t really expecting him to be but it still would have made this much easier. Get it over and done with and all that.

Stepping carefully over the piles of trash, I finally sit down precariously on the messy couch. There are papers spread all across the coffee table, I notice. My father was never once much for paperwork unless he somehow could make money from it, so I start to clear away the mess and looking the papers over. A gasp catches in my throat when I realize what it all is. All the papers belong to one much bigger document when I stack them up.

Mum’s money. Well, mine I guess but it’s enough to pay back rent to Louis and the boys. It’s enough to get out of here again, run somewhere even further, maybe find a new job, a new name, a new life. No one gets hurt except for me, but who cares about that? As long as my Louis is happy and as long as I’m out of the way, I’ll be fine.

“Do you know what this means Harry?” Gemma’s excited, hushed voice from far too long ago now whispers to me. I can still see the way she held up the papers and grinned at me like she hadn’t in so long. “We can leave. When you turn eighteen we can run and never come back. Hazza, we’ll be  _free_.”

A crashing sound from the doorway startles me upwards and out of my memories, back to the present. In a moment of sheer panic, I stuff the papers into my backpack and spread the battles and styrofoam containers back across the table.  _If I make it out of here I’ll do all those things,_ I promise myself.

_If I make it out of here._

“Harry.” A gruff all too familiar voice sneers. I snap my head up obediently, cowering a bit when I see eyes the color of my own staring at me intensely. A laugh rumbles low and terrifying throughout the room, sending shivers down my spine as all the pain that used to accompany that laugh comes rushing back.

Bottles roll across the floor and the stomping footsteps come closer and closer until finally my father takes a seat on the coffee table in front of me. He looks exactly how I remember him only maybe with a few more wrinkles by his eyes and his forehead. He still looks so much like me.

He sneers, his upper lip curling in absolute disgust, before cracking a hand across my face. The pain is quick and nothing really when compared to everything else I’ve endured at these hands, but it’s still a shock. It’s been so long since I’ve been hit like that I had almost forgotten just how dehumanizing it is.

The laugh is back, his time louder and closer and my pain only makes it worse. “I knew you’d come back,” my father whispers, his breath smelling so strongly of alcohol it nearly knocks me over. “What’ve you done this time? Who’ve you fucking murdered this time, Harry?”

I swallow my tears and shake my head. “I-I haven’t. I haven’t killed anyone it’s just, my boyfriend-”

Another slap comes to my face, this time harder. It’ll definitely bruise, that one. “Fucking knew it,” he growls. “You’re a disgrace, Harry. Let’s get this over with then.”

Later on, when it’s dark and all the old familiar bruises are back in their respective spaces, I crawl between the sheets of my twin bed and whisper to myself, “Let’s get this over with, then.”

There are no nightmares tonight, I simply dream of Louis.


	22. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dont know what it is but this chapter just feels so shitty to me. So, sorry. aahh. 
> 
> tumblr: amoryfics

“Lou?”

The voice is far too close to my ear so I do the reasonable thing I shake my head, groaning long and loudly. “Shutup Hazza.” I murmur, rolling back onto my stomach and stuffing my face into the pillow.

There’s silence and then someone’s shaking my arm. Grumbling, I pry my eyes open and turn just enough to see Liam leaning against the bedside table and waiting for me to wake up. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him like this that it catches me off guard. “Time to wake up, Grimmy’s here.” He says, drumming his fingers a bit against the table for no real reason.

“It’s too early for Grimshaws.” I mumble.

Liam gives me a close lipped smile and reaches over to push the fringe out of my eyes. “He thinks someone may have seen Harry.”

At that, I roll back over and stare at the ceiling. Niall is beside me, one ankle over mine and an arm around my shoulders. If I strain my neck just a bit I can see that my bed is still empty and unmade, just as it was when I woke up two days ago now. It’s been two days.

“Harry’s gone.” I say.

“Yeah Lou, he is. We’re going to get him though.” Liam squeezes my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me, telling me that if I wasn’t laying down right now I’d probably be stuck in one of his bear hugs.

I sigh and stare back up at the ceiling. We did absolutely nothing yesterday. Well, to be fair the other boys went out and looked some more, but I did nothing. I sat on the couch like the useless lump I am, watching whatever came on because I was too numb to move to find the remote. Niall took one look at me when they all returned home and decided more cuddling was the only answer.

“Well, I guess I can tolerate Nick if he’s going to help. If he makes a single joke though, I’ll hang out the window from his ankles and your boyfriend is obligated to assist.”

Liam smiles, a real smile this time which makes me smile back no matter how much I don’t feel like it right now. “We’re all out in the living room when you’re ready. Try getting Niall up if you can? He seems out of it.”

And he’s right because for once in his short life, Niall Horan does not seem to want to wake up. I try shaking him a bit and he just hits me rather harshly, so I decide to leave him be while I put some clothes on.

I end up in one of Harry’s jumpers almost instinctively. For a moment I consider putting it back but the smell and the warmth keep me in it. When I find him today, I’ll make sure he’s warm and safe like he was when he was with me.

“We’re going to get Harry back today, Nialler.” I say, hoping to wake him up as well as convince myself.

Niall lifts a hand out of the duvet and shoots me a thumbs up. “Good,” he sighs sadly. “Miss the dumb kid. Wake me up when you get him.”

I make a face and walk back over to the bed, sitting down on it and looking over into Niall’s eyes. “You okay?”

He nods and yawns. “Just tired, I guess. Weird not having the clock ticking.”

I blink. “Niall Horan, are you telling me that by breaking that god forsaken clock earlier I could have avoided  _months_ of being woken up too early?” I’m appalled at the thought. Feeling a spark of dramatics, I clutch at my heart and stare up at where the clock had once been.

Niall cackles and kicks me out of the bed, piling up the pillows and blankets around himself and apparently falling back asleep. Like the bastard he is.

Sure enough, when I finally walk out into the living room, Nick Grimshaw is sitting on my couch. I wrinkle my nose when I’m sure he can see me, and plop down heavily beside Liam who tugs me closer and away from Grimmy. Zayn is sitting on the arm of the couch and smiles down at me as best he can while yawning.

“Morning Louis,” he says, brushing a hand through his sleep-mussed hair.

I nod and turn back to Nick. “What’s this about Harry, then?”

“My mum called this morning, she’s almost a hundred percent sure one of her friends saw Harry walking home yesterday.”

I sit straight up at that. “Yesterday?” Liam puts a hand on my back, obviously trying to calm me down but it’s no use. “If someone saw him yesterday, why the hell did you wait until now to tell us?”

Nick rolls his eyes. “I didn’t  _know_ until today, she just called me. It’s my mother give her a break.”

“I’m not giving her or anyone else in that damn town a break.” I mutter.

“We can leave as soon as possible,” Liam interrupts our bickering before it can even really begin. “Zayn and Niall can probably stay here so there’ll be enough room in the car when we get Harry.”

Zayn nods and glances back towards my room. “That’s probably for the best. I’m sure Niall will want to launch himself at Harry as soon as he sees him.” He smirks a bit and Liam reaches over to squeeze his hand.

Nick apparently has driven over so all we really have to do is wait for Liam to get dressed and then we can leave. The fact that its so soon almost scares me. What if he says no? What if I get there and Harry’s not even there, or even worse, what if his father’s there? I’m not very big, I’ll gladly admit that, but maybe I could talk Liam into fighting him off.

Liam jostles me out of my worrying by clamping both hands down on my shoulder and shaking a bit. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“What if he doesn’t want to come back?” I blurt out without really thinking.

“Oh, Lou,” Liam sighs. “I promise if he doesn’t want to come back I’ll carry him out.”

Nick starts his stupid cackling laugh at that and claps Liam on the back on his way by. “Come along Tomlinson, we’re wasting time sitting around moping.” Liam starts laughing along with him, the traitor, and follows him out the door.

Zayn gives me the best hug he can and before I know it I’m in the backseat of Nick Grimshaw’s car. He and Liam start chatting about something related to radio while I text Lottie. We’ve started talking more and more often lately, she tends to get all the girls together at night to call me and say goodnight to them. It eases whatever worries I had about my mother treating her differently. She hasn’t, for the most part, but I still worry.

_How’s Harry?_

I frown down at the text. I decided not to tell Lottie about Harry running off, knowing it would only worry her. Ever since the day she first showed up she sort of took to him, and I can’t lie and say it doesn’t warm my heart just a bit.

 _He’s great, says hi._ I toss my phone on the seat next to me and tune back into Liam and Nick’s conversation instead.

“Can we please listen to regular music?” I complain. Nick shoots me a look over his shoulder and turns the acoustic moody song up louder.

“My car, my rules Tommo.”

I groan and shake my head. “Don’t call me that.”

Liam looks between the two of us, and frowns. “Can’t the two of you at least try to be civil? For Harry?” When neither of us say anything, Liam shoots me a look. “What if you hated Zayn, Lou? That’s exactly what this is.”

“It’s not the same,” I groan. “I never liked you as anything more than a brother, Li-”

“That’s bullshit and you know it Louis,” Nick interrupts with his stupid grin. “If I wanted Harry I would have had him by now.”

I fake a gag while Liam tries and fails to hold in his giggling. “You’re disgusting, both of you.” I kick the back of Liam’s seat for good measure and go back to my phone. Mostly I end up just clicking around it uselessly, ignoring how the two morons in the front seat make easy conversation.

It isn’t that long of a drive, really, but it feels like it stretches on for days. Just the knowledge that I might be getting Harry back soon makes every second last just a bit longer. I try hard to keep the images of Harry when I first found him out of my head, but I can’t. What if it’s worse this time? I wouldn’t even know what to do.

“This place is tiny.” I mutter when Nick announces that we’re apparently here. Holmes Chapel seems like nothing, really, just a quintessential small town. It’s strange to imagine Harry growing up here.

We pass more than one church and a few shops before the car starts to slow and my heart starts racing. The thing is, I’m nervous and I’m not even sure what for. Mostly that Harry might be worse than just hurt, or that he’ll say no. I am so worried he’ll refuse to come home with me.

“This house here.” Nick announces, parking the car right in front of a little unassuming brick place.

“That house?” My throat tightens a bit at the thought. Harry might be in there, right now, and he might be waiting for me.

Nick nods and then sighs, leaning back in his seat a little further. “His father’s car isn’t here. I don’t know if he is or not, but we should still at least try.”

“Can I go alone?” Both boys turn to look at me and I just shrug my shoulders. “Sorry I just…I don’t want to scare him with all of us there. I might be easier if I just go alone?”

It takes a moment of strange looks, but finally Liam nods. “He has a point.”

“Fine,” Nick gives in. “But only for a little while.” When I don’t move, he shoots me a look and points to the door.

Liam sends me his most reassuring smile and I practically push myself out of the car. I keep reminding myself it’s just Harry, just the boy I’ve been waking up to these past few weeks, just the boy who knows everything about me down to the gross details. It’s just my Harry.

And possibly his hulk sized abusive father, but we can cross that bridge when we come to it. If we come to it.

I knock on the door three quick times and wait. A few seconds go by with no answer, so I knock again. Finally, to my relief I hear soft footsteps across the floor. I wait with my breath held listening to more of the shuffling, until finally, “Lou?”

Harry’s voice muffled through the door almost makes me cry. “Harry? Harry, please open up.”

“Louis, you can’t be here.” He sounds panicked, terrified even.

“Babe,  _please_.”

There’s silence from Harry’s side until I hear the distinct noise of a lock clicking. The door creaks open just a little and all I can see of Harry is one of his hands hanging down at his side. “Only you?”

I nod. “The others are staying in the car, I promise.”

“Okay,” he whispers, pulling the door open just a bit more. “Okay, you can come in.”

I glance back at the car for a brief moment, and then slide inside through the small crack between the door and the frame. I’m hardly inside and Harry’s slamming it shut, clicking two of the locks and shaking the door handle a bit just to be sure.

“I don’t know when my dad’s coming back,” he murmurs, his voice quivering. “Gotta be safe though, c’mon.”

All the lights are off in the house it seems, and all the shades are drawn as well so when Harry reaches blindly for my hand and starts dragging me up the steps, I almost fall on my face. “Careful of the bottles.” Harry advises, not letting go of his vice grip on my hand.

“Bottles?”

“My dad drinks.”

I nod sadly and step more carefully, avoiding more than one beer bottle on our way up the stairs. “Why’s it so dark?” I whisper.

In the dusty light from one of the upstairs bedrooms, I can see Harry shrug. “Easier.” And thats the only answer I get.

We make it to the hallway upstairs and Harry closes one of the doors we pass before pausing in front of another. “This is my room,” he tells me, waving his hand at it. “We need to use Gemma’s, she has a lock.”

Before he shuts that door as well, I get a glimpse at a simple blue painted room with a twin bed where Harry’s backpack sits. There are a few open dresser drawers and posters but I don’t get any time to inspect them because we’re toppling into another room.

The bed here is much larger and after a look around I can tell it’s a girls room. The bedspread and the walls are both shades of purple and the dresser that Harry’s leaning against is littered with makeup and jewelry. When he finally looks up at me though, and his hair falls out of his face, I completely forget about everything else.

“Oh, baby.” I whisper. There are bruises all over his lovely face, a black eye, a split lip. I can see at the neck of his jumper more bruises are forming. It’s almost identical to how he looked when I found him the first time, only he’s no longer crying and he won’t look at me at all.

“Lou, you shouldn’t have come here.” He sighs, avoiding my eyes at all costs.

I shake my head, swallowing the sob I want so badly to let out. “I’m here to take you back home, Harry.”

“I am home-”

“No, don’t start that,” I stop him with a firm shake of my head. “You know that’s not true. You know that your home is with us.”

Harry ducks his head again but I don’t miss the way his lip wobbles. He sniffs a bit and wipes at his face, wincing when his sleeve brushes across his lip. I whimper slightly at the fact that he’s hurting right now.

“Sweetheart,” I whisper, almost afraid I’ll spook him away by being any louder. “Come with me, where’s the bathroom?”

“Why?”

“You need to get cleaned up, you’re still hurting.”

Harry looks down at his feet and shuffles them a bit, before nodding towards the bed. “Under there. Gemma keeps-kept a box of stuff under there for this.”

I wince at the thought that this happened often enough that Gemma had to plan for it ahead of time, but I don’t mention it. Instead, I get down under the bed and swipe my hand around until I pull out a first aid kit. Harry’s still watching me when I stand back up, so I motion for him to come closer.

“Sit baby. Take off your jumper, too.”

Harry glances at me warily, but does as he’s told. He’s littered with bruises just as I suspected, absolutely covered in them. To my strange relief, his scar doesn’t seem to be bothered at all. I open the small kit up and take out the antiseptic so I can start pretending I have any clue what I’m doing.

“It’s gonna sting.” I murmur. Harry nods and lets me tilt his chin towards me so I can get to the scratch under his eye that looks like it’s from a fingernail, but god only knows really. I’m not taking any chances.

It’s mostly silent while I clean the cuts on his chest as well, the only sound being Harry’s breathing slowly in and out.. I go through the first aid kit a bit more, sorting through bandages and medication until I see cream to make Harry’s bruises fade. Gemma was prepared for just about anything, it seems.

“Why are you doing this?” Harry asks finally.

My hands still on his chest, and I sigh. “Because I love you,” I tell him, leaning forward to brush a kiss across one of the bruises blooming on his face. “And I hate seeing you hurt. I promised never to let this happen to you again.”

“It can’t be helped-”

“Yes it can,” I say, trying to stay firm despite the fact that my voice cracks on the last word. “Harry, you never should have come back here. You should’ve stayed so we could talk about what happened.”

He snorts and rolls his eyes at me. “Why, so you could kick me out in person?”

I startle back up at that. “Harry-”

“Louis, just stop.”

“No, look at me. Right now,” I wait until he does to fix him with my most serious expression. “I would never do that to you. I love you so much, Harry, okay? And I’m sorry if you didn’t know that before, I should have said it. I should have said it so many times, but I do love you. How could you even think that I’d ever want you to leave?”

Again, Harry’s lip starts to shake. He bites down on it quickly, as if he could hide it from me. “How could you want me around after all I’ve done?” He asks, looking down at his fingers instead of my face.

I crouch down further until he’ll look at me. “I’ll always want you, Harry,” I promise him. “No matter what.”

He looks at me, his eyes full of tears, and nods. I lean forward just enough to carefully press my lips to his, only for a moment. When I pull back he’s smiling. Only a little bit, of course, but it’s enough to keep me going for now.

I stand back up and look over his face again. “When was the last time he hit you?” I ask, choking up just at the thought.

Harry’s hands go almost impulsively to his face. “Before he left a few hours ago. It was my fault, I tried asking about the bills and he just…” He trails off and nods at me.

I have to fight every impulse I have that’s telling me to pick him up and tell him none of this is his fault. “Those could probably use some ice,” I say instead.

When I turn to go in search of ice however, Harry pounces on me. “No, Lou no,” he yells, grabbing me around the waist and trapping me. “No, no, no. Stay here, you have to stay in here.”

And even though I don’t understand it, I grab him back and let him sob against my neck. “Baby, what is it?” I whisper, kissing the top of his head just because I can.

“You have stay in here,” he repeats. “It’s the only safe place. I can’t let him hurt you.”

It finally clicks and I close my eyes, almost wanting to drag him out now. “Oh, Hazza.”

“I had dreams,” Harry sniffles, wrapped his arms even tighter. “All those nightmares I had, they were about him finding me and finding you. I kept dreaming he got to you and got to my friends and I-you have to tell the other boys to go.”

“Haz-”

“Louis, tell them to go.”

And I can’t say no when he begs like that, so I fish my phone out of my back pocket to dial Liam. He answers after the first ring. “Lou, is he okay?” He asks immediately and I can see the way it makes the fear in Harry’s eyes soften.

“He’s…he’s mostly okay, yeah. Listen Li, do me a favor?” I wait for him to agree and for Harry to nod at me to begrudgingly tell him to drive around somewhere else. For Harry’s sake, I make up some little white lie about how the two of them are making him jumpy.

Liam relays the information back to Nick. He starts swearing audibly on the other line and Harry makes a grab for the phone which I let him have. “Liam? It’s me, can you put Nick on?”

From this close to Harry, I can hear Nick grumbling. “What the fuck are you doing Harry?”

“Take Liam back to your house, Nick please. I don’t know when he’s coming home and if he sees you out there…I can’t. You can’t get hurt, either of you.”

“I’m more concerned with you getting hurt, forgive me,” he snaps back. “What’s he done, then? Is it your face, it used to always be your face. I can hear the swollen lip on you.”

Harry glances over to me, and then quickly down to where I’m intertwining our fingers. “Lou’s got me.” And I don’t think three words that weren’t I love you have ever made me so happy.

“Is he helping you?”

“He always helps me. He’s Louis.”

Nick sighs. “Fine. But if you aren’t out here and in this car within in the hour, I will drag you out by your pretty curls. You are not staying here.”

Harry makes a face at that. “Bye Grimmy.”

“Harry, you’re not-”

He hands up and then hands the phone back to me. “I don’t know why he’s acting like that.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you disappeared without a trace and told no one.” I say, bitterness obvious in my tone.

Harry hears it and shrinks back, taking his hand from mine. “You’re angry with me.”

“I am angry with you,” I say, guiding him back to the bed so he can sit and let me finish trying to patch him up. “I still love you, I love you very, very much. But yes, I am angry.”

Harry’s eyebrows pull together for a moment and he just stares at me. “But I left so you wouldn’t be angry? Louis, that’s what this was about.”

In lieu of an answer, I close the first aid kit and help Harry back into his jumper. Once he’s all settled, sitting back on the bed with glassy green eyes trained on me, I sit down beside him and take his hands.

“I’m not angry about what happened to Gemma, sweetheart. I’m angry that your father made you believe you had any part in it, but I am not angry at  _you_ ,” I wait until he nods to continue on. “I’m angry right now because you scared the hell out of me, Harry, out of all of us. We were all so worried about you. And, I think most of all I’m angry at myself for not letting you know you could tell me anything and that I’d understand.”

Harry’s about to answer when there’s a crash from downstairs. His eyes go almost comically wide when the front door audibly swings open and heavy footsteps enter the house.

“Why’s the fucking door locked?” A loud, unfamiliar voice slurs.

Harry pushes himself up from the bed and runs to the door, making sure it’s locked with shaking hands. He then turns back to me and looks around wildly. “Under the bed,” He whispers. I can practically hear his heart beating from where I’m sitting. “Lou, please. Please-”

“Where are you, Harry?” His father sing songs from downstairs. Then there’s the unmistakable sound of heavy boots on the stairs. Harry comes back to me and starts trying to convince me to hide under the bed, pushing me and crying.

The footsteps get closer and closer and I suddenly realize why Harry shut the other doors-to stall his father. It’s almost disgusting how prepared he is for this. “Harry!” The door shakes when his father pounds on it and Harry yelps in surprise, jumping away. “Open the door.”

To my dismay, Harry coughs a bit to clear his throat. “J-Just hold on, I’m just-”

“Open the fucking door!”

“Harry, don’t do it,” I whisper so we won’t be heard. He’s still looking off towards the door though, so I take his tear stained cheeks in my hands and make him meet my eyes. “Baby, come on look at me. You don’t have to do this anymore.”

He’s shaking violently and with every heavy knock at the door it only gets worse. His eyes are the same clouded green they were when I used to wake him up from his nightmares. I’m just as scared as I was then too, but I can’t show it. “I-I need to p-punished, Lou I-”

“What would Gemma do now?” I ask, praying that that doesn’t set him off. “Sweetheart, when this happened before what would she do to help you?”

Harry’s eyes flicker from the door, the large dresser, and back to me. It takes a moment, but I get it. “In front of the door?” I ask. He nods and after a kiss to his forehead, I move to the dresser. It takes some pushing and a whole lot of muscle I do not have, but I manage to push it down the wall and flush against the door which his father is still banging on drunkenly.

“I swear to god Harry, if you don’t open this door.” The man trails off into grumbling threats and more pounding on the door, but I ignore him. Harry needs me.

Harry’s apparently given up on trying to get me under the bed and is now laying on top of it. He looks so terribly small, curled up on his sisters bed with his arms wrapped tightly around his knees, watching me with wide trusting eyes. I try to give him a smile but it sort of falters when there’s more swearing from the other side of the door and I see the tears in his eyes.

“Come here, sweet boy,” I murmur, crawling up onto the bed beside him. “It’ll be alright, I promise. Let me hold you.”

Harry drops into my lap and wraps himself around me, sobbing into my shoulder. Two long legs wrap around my torso and his arms come down to cross around my neck so I can’t pull away. Not that I want to, of course. I’m content to stay here attached to Harry forever if I could, even if his father never lets up.

“Gems would sing, sometimes.” He whispers against my neck cautiously, almost as if I’ll judge him for it.

I smile past the tears I didn’t realize were there. “Yeah? What would she sing?”

Harry sniffles a bit and shrugs as best he can when he’s draped all over me. “Lullabies, mostly.”

I nod and turn my head to kiss the side of his. “I can do that.” Harry takes a deep breath and relaxes against me as I start to sing quietly ever lullaby I can remember. Some of them I can remember my mum singing to me when I was barely old enough to spell my own name, some I learned especially for when I babysat the twins and they’d cry. Sometimes the only thing that would stop them was my own ten minute edition of You Are My Sunshine. Luckily for me, Harry just settles for the regular length one.

His father stops banging on the door eventually, to my relief. He continues to yell though, random outbursts every few minutes directed to Harry. And as horrible as it makes me feel to admit it, I could understand how Harry would believe every word that man says.

“You hiding in there, Harry?” he growls while I continue to sing. “She’s not in there anymore, is she? Because you killed her. Didn’t you, Harry?”

Apparently my singing doesn’t completely drown him out, because Harry starts to shake his head. “I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean to-”

“It isn’t your fault, don’t listen to him,” I murmur into his ear, brushing a hand over his curls. “It could have happened to anyone. People have accidents everyday, and I’m so, so sorry it happened to you but this isn’t your fault.”

Harry chokes out a sob and nuzzles his head closer towards my neck. “I miss her so much.”

I close my eyes and lean back against the headboard, trying to collect my thoughts. “I know you do baby, but you know what?”

We shift around a bit and Harry sits back up, sniffling and wiping his nose with his sleeve. “What?”

“It’ll get so much better from here, lovely. I promise, okay? Sometimes you have to go this low. Sometimes hitting rock bottom is the only thing that gets you back up,” I lean forward just enough to press my lips to his forehead. “Baby, would Gemma want this for you? Would she want you spending your life here and blaming yourself for something that wasn’t your fault?”

He hesitates for a moment, before shaking his head. “N-No, she always said she wanted me to leave. Both of us, I mean, we were always gonna get out of here.”

“And you did didn’t you? You’re so strong and so brave to be able to leave like that, Harry. I’ll never be as brave as you.”

Harry pulls back so he can give me quite possibly the cutest frown I’ve ever seen. “Don’t say that, Lou. You’re brave too, y’know. How you moved on after everything that happened to you as a kid, from your mom, from the alcohol. Louis you’re such a wonderful, brave person.”

I smile and tangle my fingers through his hair, tugging softly just how I know he likes. “You’re too sweet to me. This isn’t about me right now, this is about you. This is about you understanding that what happened to Gemma wasn’t your fault.”

“I was driving-”

“Yes, but you didn’t intentionally crash with her did you? You weren’t trying to hurt your sister. You hit ice, anyone could have done it,” Harry still seems skeptical though, so I give his hair another soft tug. “Harry, you love Gemma and I know you. You would never, ever hurt anyone you love I know that you wouldn’t. So, why would you believe him?”

As if he hears me, Harry’s dad bangs on the door one last time. “I’m coming back, Harry, and I’m opening this goddamn door. You just wait.” We both sit with baited breath as the heavy footsteps make their way down the stairs and out the door. As soon as it slams, I’m on my feet.

“Come on, grab anything you want. Quickly Harry, before he comes back.”

Harry looks at me, his eyes wide. “You really want me to come back?”

“Harry, we  _need_ you. I need you and I am not leaving here without you,” I wait for that to sink in, before smirking at him. “But if you don’t hurry up, I might consider it.”

It takes us only ten minutes altogether for Harry to grab an assortment of things he wants from his bedroom and Gemma’s to put into his backpack. I notice he has a lot of pictures, and jewelry that he blushingly explains to me were his mum’s.

“Dad would’ve pawned them if he knew Gems was hiding them,” he explains, his fingers dancing across one of the necklaces. “I dunno what I’m going to do with them but I’d rather have them than leave them.”

I laugh. “You can give them to your daughters someday. Or your poor son, bless.”

Harry rolls his eyes at me and zips his backpack up, slinging it over his shoulder. “Li’s coming to pick us up?” I nod and he frowns a bit at his toes. “He’s um…he’s not gonna be like. I mean, I know he’s angry at me but-”

“He won’t yell at you, I promise.”

He nods and then reaches for my hand, squeezing it tightly in his own. “Okay, let’s go then.” I almost stop to ask him if he’s sure, but then I realize how hard this must be for him. I remember when I left my mother’s house, the only thing that really kept me from bursting into tears was Liam’s arm around me.

So, I squeeze his hand back and lead him out down the stairs and out the door. He gets a chance to look back just once, before shutting the door behind us and following me out to the car.

Nick’s out first and pulling Harry in for a bone crushing hug. I almost scold him, but I can’t when Harry’s smiling like that. “God Harry Styles, you absolute drama queen.” Nick pulls back but I can see his eyes are a bit glassy. I don’t have it in my heart to make fun of him now for it. Maybe later.

Liam is next and Harry almost seems surprised when he hugs him just as hard as Nick did. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he sighs. “Don’t do that again, okay?”

Harry laughs a bit and nods. “Promise, never again.”

All four of us pile into the car, Harry and I taking the backseat so he can lay across me and try to catch up on the sleep he lost the night before. I don’t even what to think about what happened to him last night, so I just let him against my chest while I brush my hand through his hair gently. He nuzzles closer to my chest and I suddenly remember the necklace still around my neck.

“Baby, sit up.”

Harry does so, blinking tiredly at me while I unfasten the paper airplane from my neck and put it around his instead. It falls against his pale skin and it’s so obvious that’s where it belongs. He looks down and grabs the charm in his hand, running a fingernail over the silver.

“M’sorry I ran.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” I reach forward to pull him back against me. He settles against my chest and gets himself comfortable while I go back to petting his hair. But, being Harry, he has to continue fighting off sleep to talk to me.

“Gotta talk to you and the boys tomorrow.” He mumbles.

“Mm, maybe not tomorrow,” I whisper back, letting my fingers run down his face to tweak his nose and make him smile. “Let’s wait until you’re feeling better, how does that sound?”

Harry rolls towards me a bit so he can tuck himself into the fetal position. “I feel fine.” He sighs against my t-shirt.

“You look like a human punching bag.”

“I kinda am, Lou,” He chuckles.

“No,” I say defiantly. “No you’re not, not anymore and never again.”

Harry just sighs again, loud and put out, and slowly falls asleep in my arms where he belongs.

Nick glances back at the two of us about halfway home and drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “His father came back while you were there?”

I nod. “Yeah, it was really bad.” Just thinking about it makes me reach down to Harry again. I brush a few curls from the sleeping boy’s forehead, looking over the bruises with a frown.

“He um,” Nick coughs, clears his throat, and starts again. “Thanks. You know, for getting him out safe and all that.”

It must be hard for him to thank me because he looks almost like puking at what he’s just said. I laugh and shake my head. “I didn’t do it for you Grimshaw, trust me.”

He rolls his eyes at me but I can see him smirking behind his stupid glasses when he puts them back on and turns to face forward. And whatever, okay maybe we can be civil. For Harry, of course.

Anything for Harry.


	23. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's really no excuse for how late this is, but I'm sorry. This is short compared to the other chapters but it's the last one before the epilogue soooo I hope you like it and all it's cheesy glory xx

I wake up feeling disoriented and more than a frightened. It takes me a minute before I realize I’m in bed with Louis. He’s wrapped around me like an octopus and I smile at how peaceful he looks, sleeping soundly with his head pillowed on my chest. I kiss him gently on the forehead and he stirs a bit, frowning in his sleep.

“Lou, you have to let go,” I whisper, trying to move around a bit. Louis grabs on even tighter and shakes his head at me. “Babe, I need to make breakfast.”

Louis startles awake at that and blinks up at me. He then pouts and shakes his head. “No, stay with me.”

“Lou-”

Again, he shakes his head and shuts his eyes, pushing himself against me until I’m laying back down fully. “I don’t want you to leave my sight,” he murmurs against my t-shirt. “Can’t lose you again.”

I stare up at the ceiling, letting my fingers run through his hair softly and thinking. His words sting, badly, and they make me wonder if Louis will ever trust me again. “M’not gonna run off again.” I say, carefully.

“Forgive me for not taking your word on it.”

_Well, there_ _’s my answer._

“I got done what I needed to get done.” I murmur.

Louis pushes himself up on my chest and scowls at me, hair a mess and blue eyes still half lidded and sleepy. I reach over to brush the fringe out of his eyes and he only continues to scowl.

“What did you get done?” he demands. “Getting the shit kicked out of you? Was that in the plan?”

I lean back on the pillows and sigh, unable to meet his eyes. “I went to Gem’s grave for the first time, just to apologize for what I did.”

Louis deflates at that, and his scowl finally goes away. “Oh…Harry-”

“Just let me talk, okay?” I interrupt him, waiting until he nods to go on. “I was talking and I sort of just…got to you. And I realized how in love with you I am, just absolutely completely in love with you. I did want to come back, you know. I just-Louis, I feel like all I ever do is cause you trouble.”

Louis is silent, and then he’s kissing me. “Harry, no,” he murmurs, lips still pressed to mine. “God, I love you so much. Don’t ever think I don’t want you around, because I do. Always.”

I nod and we separate so I’m left staring into his eyes. “Does this mean I can make breakfast?”

He laughs and hits me on the chest. “Yes, now go. Make sure to bring me some too.” Louis gives me another quick peck on the lips and then rolls off me, laying back down on the bed and closing his eyes.

I stand up and after softly brushing a strand of hair away from Louis’ face, walk out into the kitchen. It feels almost surreal being back, doing such normal things when I fully intended never to come back. Letting my fingers run across the wall, I slowly make my way out and into the kitchen, turning a few of the lights on. It’s still early yet, too early to be very bright out.

“Haz?”

I turn around and soften my smile when I see Niall standing in the doorway. He’s frowning and looking all around miserable. “Hey, Ni.”

With that, he launches himself at me and wraps his arms so tight around me that I have no chance of moving away. “Why’d you do that Harry, I hate you,” he mutters into my shoulder. “Fucking christ, your face.”

“I’m really sorry, I murmur, because I can’t think of anything else to say. “I didn’t think you’d care.”

Niall pushes me away when he hears that and if his face is anything to go by, he’s furious. “Are you insane?” He asks.

“Ni-”

“No-how could you even think that?” he waits for me to say something and when I don’t, makes a frustrated noise. “Harry, you don’t get to just-just leave like that! You’re my best friend, you fucking prick. We thought you’d died or something.”

Niall keeps staring at me, his eyes wide and confused like he’s trying to figure out how the hell I could possibly be so stupid. I’m sort of wondering the same thing myself. Finally he launches himself at me again. I hug him back just as hard this time, tugging him close and telling him how sorry I am even though I know it doesn’t change anything. _I_ _’m an idiot,_ I think with a frown. _How could I take any of this for granted?_

“Never fucking do that again.” He says, but he doesn’t sound angry anymore, just sad.

We stand like that until there’s the sound of someone else entering the room. “Well, you found him first Ni, now I get to kick the shit out of him.” Both of us look up to see a half-naked Zayn walking into the kitchen, looking grumpy. He catches sight of my bruises though and the act melts away. Niall lets go of me so Zayn can come a bit closer and look me over.

He finally sighs, and turns to Niall. “Let’s kill his dad.”

I bark out a laugh, but Niall is serious about it, it seems. “Do you think we could get away with it?”

Zayn mulls it over. “Honestly, yeah if we found somewhere to hide the body-”

“Guys!” I interrupt them. “Can we please not discuss murder before breakfast?”

Niall shrugs and glances towards the stove where I’ve already set out the eggs. “Well, hurry up and make the breakfast so we can set up our plans.”

While I make breakfast I can actually hear the two of them talking about the legality of killing my father. There’s a part of me, a very, very small part that’s all for the idea but the other part is logical. I just need to stay here, I’ll be safe if I’m here.

 _Safe,_ I think to myself with a small smile. _Safe with Louis. I_ _’m safe with him._

On cue, Louis comes up with Liam and wraps his arms around my waist, kissing the back of my neck in greeting. I reach down to squeeze one of his hands and it does feel safe having him here, wrapped tightly around me.

“I got bored, couldn’t wait,” he explains, looking at the eggs hungrily. “Plus Liam came and got me, he says there’s something we have to talk about.”

I raise an eyebrow at that, but say nothing. I’m expecting a lecture from Liam but I didn’t think it’d come in front of everyone else, or so early in the morning. Louis stays wrapped around me, moving only occasionally to join the murderous conversation that Liam is trying to put a stop to.

“I got my money,” I blurt out. Louis turns back to me and I can feel him frowning against my neck. “The money Mum left me, I got the papers for it. In a few weeks, it’s mine.”

Louis’ frown slowly turns to a smile. “That’s fantastic baby,” he whispers. “Do you know what you’re going to do with it?”

“I was thinking I could…maybe, I could go to school.” I say carefully, half scared he might shut me down. _I_ _’m such an idiot. I’d never make it through uni anyway, I’m stupid-_

“That sounds fantastic Hazza,” Louis interrupts my thoughts, kissing my neck again. “I’m so proud of you, you know. My sweet boy.”

I can’t help the ridiculous grin that spreads across my face.

Liam decides we need to eat in the living room for his announcement, so we all head out with our breakfasts and settle onto the couch, Louis sitting down in my lap like it’s no big deal at all. Niall rolls his eyes at both of us and throws his legs over Louis’ leaving me buried underneath them.

Zayn is in on the secret, which isn’t a surprise, and he sits with his hand clasped in Liam’s waiting. Liam finally looks at the three of us and grins. “So, Zayn and I are moving out.”

Everyone stills. There’s deafening silence and Louis’ mouth is hanging open making him resemble a fish. Finally. He shakes his head a few times and says, “What?”

Zayn nods. “Don’t freak out-”

“I’m freaking out!” Niall says frantically. “You guys can’t leave, what the hell are we supposed to do-”

“Ni,” Liam says gently. “We’re moving next door. Mrs. Grey next door is leaving to move in with her daughter and she came to ask if we might want to rent the flat from her.”

Louis’ eyebrows draw in. “Wait, who is that?”

I bite down my smile and squeeze his hip. “I think it’s the old lady next door you’re constantly accosting.”

“That old hag?” Louis asks, looking from me to Liam and Zayn.

Liam groaned and closes his eyes for a few moments. “She’s a very nice woman, Louis.

He rolls his eyes and relaxes back against me. “Whatever, Hazza and I call dibs on your room.”

Niall smiles. “I finally get my own room,” he kicks his legs around excitedly and just about hits Louis in the face in the process. “You didn’t even have to kill me, Lou.”

“Well, I might now if you don’t get your disgusting sock out of my face.” Louis grumbles, but he looks happy. I’m smiling as well, now. It’ll be nice to finally have our own room, maybe a bigger bed too.

It’d be almost like a home, really.

They decide to celebrate by passing out beer to everyone and soda for Louis who scowls at it but after I put my own beer back too, decides he’s okay with it. Liam looks like he’s about to bounce off the walls from being so happy and Zayn is staring up at him like he’s the sun.

“Ugh,” Niall complains on his second beer. “There’s too much love happening in this room it’s sickening.”

Louis grins and decides this is the perfect opportunity to plant a giant kiss on my lips. Niall makes a retching noise and tosses a pillow at our heads, but we’re too busy smiling to notice. Louis stops and stares at me for a minute, fingers tracing along my cheekbone and down to my lips. Finally he turns to everyone else and grins.

“You know what else we need to celebrate?” He asks.

I groan. “Lou-”

“My Harry is home,” he announces loudly. “He’s home and he’s decided to go back to school. That is worth celebrating!”

Liam grins along with Niall and Zayn and soon they’re all looking at me and I’m flushing red. “It’s nothing,” I mumble, playing with the top of the soda can in my hands. “Louis, seriously-”

“And on his eighteenth birthday we’re all going to party our arses off.”

That seems to be the end of the conversation. Everyone cheers and I attempt to become part of the couch, sinking as low as possible. Louis is laughing uproariously at the whole ordeal and doesn’t seem concerned at all with how embarrassed I am.

We spend the rest of the night “celebrating” as Louis deems it, but really all it means is that none of us change into actual clothes or go anywhere. We spend the whole day in a giant pile on the couch, watching movies and talking about everything from how what I want to study when I get to uni to when Zayn and Liam intend on moving into their new flat. I don’t even remember the last time I’ve felt so relaxed.

Before long, Louis is sleeping against my chest and Niall has curled up in a ball on the pillows he used to make into a makeshift bed. Liam and Zayn and I all take them back to their beds and decide it’s time for bed.

“Stay,” Louis whispers against my chest when we lay down. “Stay always.”

Something in my chest stirs and I feel suddenly so in love that all I can say to him is, “Of course, Lou. Always.”

Always turns out to be until I get too thirsty to ignore it anymore and gently pry myself out of Louis’ arms. I kiss him softly on the forehead and head out to the kitchen.

“I need to talk to you.”

I yelp and cover my mouth when I see its Liam, standing in his doorway and looking out at me. I look around the dark hallway, and nod. “I was going for a drink,” I whisper. “Kitchen?” Liam nods and follows me through the dark flat to the kitchen where he flips the light on and starts scouring the cabinets for a glass.

By the time he’s filled two glasses with ice water and handed one to me, I’m shaking. Liam seems mad. He’s probably going to yell at me for being such an idiot, or for leaving, maybe just for both. The worst part is, I deserve it.

“I’m not going to yell at you,” Liam starts off, noticing my shaking hands. “But I do need to talk to you, and it’s serious, okay?”

I nod and take a sip of the water. “Yeah, okay.”

Liam nods as well, and then his face turns completely serious, eyebrows drawn in and mouth set in a line. “Harry, you cannot do that again. Not only did it hurt us, but it hurt Louis. He drank, he hasn’t had a single drink in weeks and I’m not saying it’s your fault, but you leaving played a very large part in it. You leaving _killed_ him and I will never let that happen again,” he takes a break, letting me take this in before he continues. “So, if by some weird circumstance someday he and you breakup, you don’t get to just leave without saying goodbye. You don’t get to disappear off the face of the earth like that again or I swear I will hunt you down and use my stern eyebrows on you.”

I nod a few times, and then bite at my lip. “I’m really sorry,” I whisper, looking down at the ice floating around in my water. “I didn’t mean to hurt him so badly.”

“You didn’t just hurt him,” he says, softly. “I was worried too, you know. Zayn and Niall were worried-all of us Harry. You’re our friend now too and we love you. If you ever do that again we’re all going to lose our fucking minds, you realize that right?”

I stifle a laugh, and shrug. “Okay, I won’t then. I guess I’m sticking around, huh?”

Liam finally smiles and nods. “Yeah, I guess you are.”

When I return to our bed, I smile down at Louis’ sleeping figure and sigh. It’s not so bad really, sticking around here. Maybe it wasn’t what I had in mind when I first came to London looking for an escape from my father, but it’s much more than I thought I could ever get. I have a new family now, a new family and a Louis that’s all my own. I have a job, friends, soon school and a future to look forward to with the people I love and the people who love me.

I have a home now, and that’s better than anything I ever could have wished for.


	24. Chapter 24

I stand in the doorway of the kitchen watching Harry play with his early Christmas gift; a small puppy with curly brown fur and a ribbon wrapped around its collar. Lottie is beside him, cooing to the dog and laughing each time it hops up to lick her on the nose. The twins and Fizzy are asleep early, waiting for Santa to come, but Lottie wanted to stay up with us and I didn’t have the heart to say no. Harry always teases me for being such a pushover when it comes to the girls, but secretly he’s ten times worse.

“Have you thought of a name yet?”

Harry grins and runs a hand over the puppy’s fur. The animal shelter promised me she wouldn’t get very big, which is partially why I picked her, but also because she has the kind of coat you just want to pet for hours.

“Louis, because she’s tiny and cute.” Harry announces.

Lottie bursts out laughing and I roll my eyes, bringing in our tea and hot chocolate for Lottie. I then sit down beside Harry and make a face when the dog comes bounding up to me. “You have to walk her every day,” I remind my boyfriend carefully. “And remember to feed her, and-”

“Lou, I got it,” Harry laughs, taking the squirmy puppy into his arms again. “You’re going to love her.” The look in his eyes tells me he’s going to _make_ me love her, which is a bit scary actually.

“Mm.” Is all I say.

The dog plays with the toys I bought her with Lottie and Harry, until Lottie yawns one too many times and I send her off to bed in Niall’s room with the other girls. She goes, but only after hugging both me and Harry tightly.

“Thank you.” She whispers in my ear, and I don’t have to ask what for. She didn’t want to spend Christmas with our mother and grandparents, who’d surely treat her like a pariah just for being herself. While her and her girlfriend are no longer dating, she still fights with Mum sometimes about it. When the other girls heard Lottie would be spending Christmas with Harry and I, they all wanted in too. There was no way Harry would let me refuse.

“Her name is Buttons, because she’s cute as a button.” Harry decides, cuddling the dog close to his chest.

I laugh, sure he isn’t serious. “Really, babe? Buttons?” Harry looks up and pouts at me, my weakness. I sigh and shrug my shoulders in defeat. “Fine. Buttons the dog.”

Buttons the dog licks my face when she hears her new name, much to my dismay, and wiggles out of Harry’s arms. She trots over to where her dog bed is next to the tree and rolls into a ball, falling asleep quickly. All the while Harry is grinning like this is the best thing to ever happen to him and I can’t help but grin back. As much trouble as I know this dog is going to cause me, I can’t help but love her for making Harry smile. He hasn’t in almost a week because of the pressure of finals and his last few tests, not as much as he’s smiling now. I missed it.

“We’ve been together a year now officially.” I murmur as Niall’s new clock on the wall strikes midnight.

Harry brings a hand up to his paper airplane necklace and his grin widens. “I love you,” he murmurs, and then his eyes light up. “Come on, let’s set out the girl’s presents!”

I’ve never seen anyone so excited to buy Christmas presents in my life. When I told him we’d have to buy some for the girls, I thought he might explode from glee. He bought way too much for them, more toys than will ever fit into Liam and Zayn’s new car that we’re borrowing to drive them back home in, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him no. Now the presents hardly fit around the tree and are spilling out near the couch. Buttons sleepily watches us bring them out from our room together, not getting up from her bed yet.

“I’m so excited,” Harry says, placing another present down into the pile for Daisy. “Can we do this every year?”

I laugh and shrug. “Dunno babe, it sort of depends on the girls.”

“They love me,” he says with a nod. “We’re doing this every year.”

His surety makes me laugh, but I kiss him anyway because those are my sisters he’s talking about like that and it does something funny to my heart. As soon as I kiss him, Buttons lets out a high pitched bark and comes running up. Harry abandons me too coo at her and pick her up in his arms, putting her far too close to my face for comfort.

“I think she’s jealous,” he laughs, petting the dog’s ears. “Are you jealous Buttons, huh?”

I roll my eyes and pull my head away when the dog tries to lick me again. “Buttons can get used to it.” I say coolly. Harry gives me a funny look and then puts Buttons down to let her sniff around the presents.

“You really didn’t have to buy me a dog,” he says, grin reappearing on his face. “I know you hate her.”

“I don’t hate her,” I say, choosing my words carefully. “I’m just…not so fond. And I don’t like that you’re going to make her take her out at three am. Don’t say you won’t because you’ll give me those eyes and I’m stuck.”

Harry rests his head on my shoulder and sighs happily. He’s just about taller than me now, but he still likes to make himself small and curl up next to me on the couch, or in bed, or now. “Thank you.” He murmurs, and I kiss the side of his head instead of an answer.

We stay there, just holding each other while I think back on the past year. Harry has come so far in only a few months, with school and just life in general. He’s got all A’s in his classes and by next fall he’ll be in uni with the rest of us, and besides that he has actual friends now, people besides the boys and Nick and I who he can hang out with on weekends. He’s learning to drive, he’s still got his job at the radio station, and to my relief the nightmares have come to a full stop, only showing up on anniversaries like Gemma or his mother’s birthdays.

“I’m so proud of you.” I whisper to him, because he deserves to hear it. I’ve never been so proud of anyone in my life.

Harry smiles and brushes his head across my collarbone. “What would you wish for, if you had three wishes?” he asks.

I laugh, remembering when we first met. Harry a skinny homeless kid, and me a bona fide alcoholic. I was such an idiot back then, using alcohol to solve all my problems, a year later and it’s almost been exactly that long since I’ve had a drink. I’m a little proud of myself too if I’m honest, for getting my whole life together like that. It was hard, the hardest thing I think I’ve ever had to do, but I did it and I’m proud.

“I don’t know if I know you well enough to tell, yet.” I tease.

“Shutup.” Harry slaps my chest softly, but still laughs.

Kissing the top of his head, I look over to our Christmas tree and think it over. Finally, I say, “A family and somebody to love. I have everything I ever wanted.”

Harry looks up at me, smiling with his green eyes sparkling. “You have three wishes.” He reminds me.

I smile back and kiss him softly, letting it linger when I whisper back. “I’ll save it. You never know.”

“You never know.” Harry agrees, and then we’re kissing again.

And not for the first time, I marvel at how wonderful my life has become.

 

 

  
_Please don't be sad, you don't have to smile to make it back_   
_It's a new midnight, a new sunrise, and that can't be bad_   
_I'll stay and help you find a way_   
_In the new midnight, a new sunrise, every day_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god it's over, in a weird way I'm sort of sad about it. I've been writing this for almost a year now and it's strange that it won't be sitting there anymore begging me to write it.
> 
> Thank you everyone who's left kudos and comments and asks on tumblr, you're all wonderful and I love you. I hope you enjoyed the sappy ending but keep a look out for more eventually...maybe....eventually. :)


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